Cowardice is in the eye of the beholder
by Frapper
Summary: NWZ story based on the argument between Diego and Don Alejandro in the episode "The word". After his father calls him a coward, Diego wonders who his true self is.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N - Story based on the argument between Diego and his father on the last episode of NWZ season 3, "The Word."**

 **That dramatic door slamming in anger and frustration is my favourite scene in the whole show. Probably other Zorro writers have written about it many times before, so I am very sorry if this story is more of the same. But, as I haven't read those stories myself, this is all new and original to me. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss!**

 **(*) Special thanks to PamZ for her handy transcripts, which I used to reproduce the dialogue sentences from that episode. Those wonderfully detailed transcripts make our jobs as writers much, much easier, Pam. Specially for me, as the DVD's don't show subtitles! XXX**

 **It will be difficult for me, but I'll try to considerably reduce the amount of detailed maiming in this story, so don't be put off by my previous ones. ;)**

 **Enjoy, and please, review! Even if you read this a few years after it was published and you think it won't matter anymore. A review is always welcome and appreciated, regardless how long it takes to get through.**

 **Thanks.**

DISCLAIMER: this story is based on the NWZ series. It is a non-profit project intent for entertainment purposes only. All copyrights on the characters belong to Zorro Productions Inc. – (Sadly.)

 **Chapter 1**

(Some scenes and parts of dialogue are taken from the episode " _The Word_ ")

ZZZ

"Felipe, no!" Don Alejandro cried when the young man galloped away on his pinto horse.

"He is drawing their fire!" Diego said, proud of Felipe and his courage, but horrified at the same time.

Unable to stop them, Don Alejandro watched impotently how the bandits jumped on their horses to chase Felipe away from the hacienda, as the brave youngster had intended. Eager to help him, he waved his pistol and urged the others to follow him.

"Come on! Let's go!"

"We should get some help," Mendoza said, unsure they could take on the well-armed bandits on their own.

Diego looked through the window as well, anxious. Felipe had an advantage, but the bandits would probably catch up with him shortly. Upset, he realized this time he could not just disappear and get on Toronado. He had to get rid of the soldiers and his father first.

"He is right, Father."

"All right! I'll follow them, and you go for help!" Alejandro tried to walk to the door, but Diego got on the way.

"No. Be reasonable. You've already lost a good deal of blood," he said pointing at the flesh wound in his father's arm. "Go to the cuartel with the sergeant and get help. I'll stay here in case they return."

Diego had said the first thing that came to his mind to be left alone so he could run to the cave to change into Zorro's clothes. At the same time, by sending his father to the pueblo with the soldiers, out of the way from Zorro, he had also tried to stop him from endangering himself foolishly. However, when he saw his father's disappointed face, Diego realized his proposition had sounded ridiculous. And it was too late.

Don Alejandro shook his head in disbelief, and couldn't help himself from bursting in anger.

"Will you act like a De la Vega for once in your life?!"

It wasn't the most appropriate moment to discuss that issue, as time was running out for Felipe, but Diego tried the diplomatic route first, nonetheless raising his voice a little.

"But Father, you don't…"

"Don't _but-father_ me!" Don Alejandro interrupted, exploding like a volcano. "Felipe is in danger of being gunned down and you can only muster the courage to say ' _I'll stay here'_?"

Stressed by the sorry plight he found himself into, Diego lost his patience as well, and shouted back:

"Father, you don't know the whole situation!"

"I know enough!" Don Alejandro interrupted again, barking his words at Diego. "I know that my only son is… a _coward._ "

He stressed that fact with all the disdain he could influx to the word, looking down at Diego as if he was despicable. A heavy silence followed. Then, Don Alejandro pushed past Diego to leave the room. At the entrance door, he turned round to face his stunned son.

"Diego, if you don't come with us now, I don't want to find you here when I return home," he menaced. The pain he saw in Diego's eyes hurt him like a knife going through his heart. However, Don Alejandro reminded himself that sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. "Are you coming or not?"

Diego shook his head slowly. He could not compromise Felipe's chances of survival to satisfy his father's ego and his pride on the legendary De la Vega bravery. That could wait.

Don Alejandro huffed in disgust and left the hacienda. Mendoza gave Diego a sympathetic glance before he and Sepúlveda followed the old don. The sergeant could not believe the heated scene he had just witnessed. He thought the De la Vega's were inseparable, but this argument had opened a huge rift between them. With a sad face, he got on his horse, wondering if Diego would still be there when they returned to the hacienda.

An intense rage got Diego out of the shock. Frustrated to the core, he slammed the door shut behind the soldiers. Shaken, he looked at his hand, still stained with Don Alejandro's blood, _his_ blood. He clenched his fist so tightly he hurt himself, and then he ran to the cave to change his clothes.

ZZZ

Felipe tried to hide in a stable. His heart was racing because he didn't know what to do next. When the bandits started shooting, he thought it was his fault they were under attack. He believed he was endangering everyone in the house, and he felt it was his duty to do something about it. His initial reckless action had work wonderfully to get the bandits away from the hacienda, but he hadn't really planned how he was going to escape from them afterwards. And probably, he could not count on Zorro this time, as Diego would have trouble getting away from his father and the soldiers undetected.

Felipe heard the bandits outside, looking for him, and he stood still, trying not to breathe so heavily. One of the bandits came quietly into the stable. When he was close enough, Felipe signalled to his horse. Neighing, the pinto ran forward, pushing the man out of his way. The bandit fell over awkwardly, and knocked himself out banging his head on a sturdy pail.

Felipe smiled, congratulating himself on his good luck, but his joy would be short-lived.

"Adiós, muchacho," the bandit leader said, aiming a musket at Felipe's chest. "You are a very clever boy. But you know too much."

Felipe froze, swallowing hard, fearing for his life. Then he smiled again when he saw Zorro suddenly appearing behind the bandit. The masked man swiftly placed the tip of his sabre at the back of the bandit's neck.

"Pull the trigger and you'll be dead before you hit the ground."

Zorro was really angry. So much, this could be one of the rare occasions he may have felt capable to carry out such a threat.

All the way there he had been mulling over his predicament. Over the past few years he had been so efficient creating a weak character for Diego that now everybody thought he was a spineless coward. Even his own father. And there was nothing he could do about it, other than acknowledge that fact and carry on with the charade. Having a split personality may have been fun at the beginning, but after a few years of constant wearing at his true self, he felt the whole thing was soul destroying. When he finally caught up with Felipe and the bandits, his emotions ran so high he felt out of control, the seethe of rage overflowing.

The bandit leader swung around quickly and attacked Zorro. He fired the musket but Zorro hit it down with his sword and the bullet went into the ground. They fought fiercely for a while, the bandit using the musket as a sword to parry Zorro's sabre.

Eventually, Zorro managed to hit him on the face, and the dazed bandit dropped his musket. Zorro saw this as an opportunity to vent some of his anger and frustration by using the man as a punching ball. He sheathed his sword, and then took a swing at the bandit, followed by several more. Felipe, baffled, looked at his mentor wondering why he was so aggressive, as he could easily kill that already defeated man with one of those terrible blows.

While Diego found some solace this way, the other bandit regained consciousness and attacked Felipe, hitting his throat. He unsheathed his sword to attack Zorro while he was distracted delivering angry punches, totally unaware of his surroundings for the first time since he wore that mask. Felipe, dazed but still conscious, tried to warn him, but he could not make a sound. When the bandit was about to thrust at Zorro's back, the fear made him shout loudly:

"Zorro!"

Startled, Zorro turned around at the last moment, and the bandit's sword scratched his chest instead of sinking in his back. Even more enraged now, if that was at all possible, Zorro punched that man repeatedly, beating him to a pulp, until Felipe grabbed his right arm to stop him. Zorro shook Felipe's hand off, and was about to carry on when he realized the bandit was already unconscious. That man was still standing only because Zorro was holding him by the collar with his left hand, crushed against the stable wall. Like waking up from a bad dream, Zorro let go of the bandit, who slid down to the ground like a rag doll.

"Sorry. I… I… I don't know what came onto me," Zorro mumbled, apologizing for his cruel, out of character behaviour, ashamed to see that bewildered, frightened look on Felipe's wide-open eyes. "I am so sorry," he repeated. Then, it hit him. "Felipe! You spoke!"

Felipe smiled back at him, as surprised of that fact as much as Diego was.

"You said my name! You saved my life! Say it again."

Felipe tried hard, but nothing came out; words were stuck in his throat again. The youngster shook his head, disappointed.

"I know. You have so much inside. Give it time, huh?" In an affectionate gesture, Zorro passed his arm over Felipe's shoulder. Doing so, he winced in pain, hissing. While fighting, he had barely registered he had been sliced on the chest so badly, but now that it was over, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in the area. Felipe moved away, worried, with his white shirt soaked in Diego's blood.

" _Are you all right_?" he signed.

"I thought I was… but maybe not. Let me see." Zorro looked down. The black silk had a large slash at the front, and it was drenched in blood. Felipe helped him to unbutton the shirt to uncover his muscular torso, finding a large, deep laceration in his pectoral muscles. The wound was bleeding profusely, and it looked serious.

"Damn. This will need stitching. It is quite deep."

Zorro took off the cape to wrap it tightly around his chest, pressing on the wound to stop the haemorrhage.

"Help me bind their hands, although I don't think they will go anywhere. Then you can take them to the pueblo while I go back to the cave. But, you'll need to clean that shirt first."

Felipe nodded and took off his blood-stained shirt to wash it in the stable's trough.

When they had finished tying the bandits' hands, Zorro lifted them onto their horses, on their stomach, and he hissed in pain again. He looked at the bandits, ashamed of their battered state. He wasn't proud of this capture, but he reluctantly marked their trousers with a "Z", the signature he would rather have omitted this time. However, it was necessary as proof that Zorro had been helping Felipe.

"All right, Felipe. Take them away. I'll see you at the cave."

Felipe nodded and mounted his pinto horse. The horse walked away slowly, with Felipe pulling from the reins of the other two horses in his right hand.

Zorro whistled for Toronado. He climbed up the saddle slowly, wincing in pain once again.

 _How could I be so careless? I should have seen him coming, but I was so out of my mind… Maldita sea!_

He cursed to himself for the second time, heading back to the cave at a gentle canter.

ZZZZZ

 **A.N – Oops. Did I say "no maiming"? Look, I am trying hard! Sorry. Force of habit?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

After he had cleaned the wound thoroughly, Diego got on with the painful task of stitching it himself. At least, the wound was in an area of easy access for him, on the left side of his chest, over his heart. If the cut was on his back instead, he would not have been able to reach it and Felipe would have been required to play doctor. Diego winced and clenched his teeth every time he dug the needle into the flesh and then pulled from the silk thread to approach the edges, repeating the same process several times.

It took him nearly half an hour of torture to place all the stitches and close the wound completely. When he had finished, he realized that every time he moved his left arm or turned his torso, the stitches pulled on the skin with the tension, causing a sharp pain in the area. It became obvious to him that wound on his chest would take a while to heal unless he could rest well for a few days with his arm immobile in a sling.

During the chase, he hadn't had time to think about what he was going to do as Diego. Because his father had been so clear when he stated he didn't want to see him at home when he returned, now Diego would have to face a decision: stay or leave the hacienda. Maybe it wasn't so bad his father was so angry, as this would give Diego an opportunity to stay away while the wound healed, but only as far away from home as the cave. Don Alejandro would probably feel guilty and regret his angry words if his son had disappeared without a trace at his return.

Yes, the best option would be letting his father brood sullenly for a while, and then maybe he could tell him his secret. That may teach Don Alejandro a lesson: in this case, cowardice lied in the eye of the beholder, the same as beauty.

Diego applied some dressings over the wound and then put on his white shirt and blue trousers. To make his runaway more credible, first he had to prepare some luggage and a horse from the stables, and then hide them in the cave. He went upstairs to collect a large saddle bag and filled it with clothes, some personal belongings, food, and most of the money that was in the safe, leaving his room in a mess. Then, he went to the stable to collect Esperanza. Carrying the heavy saddle bag was bad enough for his wound, so he asked one of the grooms to saddle the mare for him.

"Yes, of course. Where are you going, señor?" Juan said, intrigued by the amount of luggage Diego was carrying.

"I am going on a visit. I'll be there for a few days."

It was obvious to Juan his boss didn't want to give him any more information, so he didn't push it, and got on with the task to saddle and bridle the mare, and then he secured the saddle bag in place. When Esperanza was ready, he held the reins and watched Diego mounting up slowly, in the same manner a much older person, like his father, would do.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, of course. I am a bit sore in my neck and back, that's all. Last night I was reading for too long in an uncomfortable position, and then I fell asleep on the table," Diego said nonchalantly. "Thank you, Juan. Have a good day."

He left the hacienda at a slow walk instead of a gentle trot or even a canter. Juan looked at him, shaking his head, unaware of the argument Diego had with his father.

 _I hope he is visiting someone close. Otherwise he will need a month to get there at that pace,_ he thought.

He turned around and continued his work, forgetting about Diego and his bags.

ZZZ

On the way to the pueblo Felipe met the soldiers. A search party were out looking for him, including the alcalde and Don Alejandro. The old don had his right arm in a sling, but that didn't stop him to join the soldiers, and he had insisted to go with them. When he saw Felipe he was delighted, waving his free hand at him.

"Felipe, you made it! I was so worried about you. How did you do this? Who helped you to get the bandits? Zorro?"

Felipe nodded coyly.

"Are those the two men?" Mendoza asked.

"Yes. They attacked and ambushed the hacienda," Don Alejandro said. Felipe nodded.

De Soto approached the bandits, who were still unconscious. Their faces were a mess; they had large purple bruises, swollen areas, and dry and fresh blood plastering the skin.

"Who did this? Zorro?" the alcalde asked, disgusted. Felipe signed quickly, waving his arms in the air. "Please, I can't understand you. What is he saying, De la Vega?"

"He is going a little too fast for me." Don Alejandro turned to Mendoza. "Sergeant, please." Felipe continued to make more gestures, punching his fists.

"I think he is saying the bandits had a row…" Felipe nodded, and carried on signing. "And they were hitting each other… and then Zorro knocked them out and placed them on the saddle... Is that it, Felipe?"

The youngster nodded quickly, delighted because the sergeant had come up with such a fantastic cover for Zorro's anger. Then he continued gesturing a bit more.

"I think he is also saying he's glad he could help you do your job, alcalde."

De Soto looked at them angry and annoyed, but didn't say anything else to Felipe.

"Lancers! Let's go back to the garrison!" He turned his horse around and urged him to a gallop, heading for Los Angeles while Don Alejandro and Mendoza looked at each other, chuckling.

"Thank you very much, Sergeant. Felipe's job is done. We'll go back to the hacienda now. Take these felons with you, please."

Felipe handed the reins to Mendoza.

"Let's go, Felipe. Adiós, Sergeant."

"Oh, wait. I'll make sure you get there safely. Private, take the reins."

He handed them over to the closest soldier and followed the De la Vegas. He was very intrigued to find out if Diego would still be there after all the drama.

"You have to take care of that arm, Don Alejandro."

"This? Don't worry, Sergeant, it's just a scratch. When I was in the military…"

The old don started one of his old stories, talking to the sergeant for most of the way to the hacienda. The real reason for such eloquence was that he didn't want to think about Diego and what he would find when he got home. He regretted his words and wished his son had not followed his advice, but at the same time, if he hadn't, that would mean Diego was the ultimate gutless man on Earth. None of the two options were appealing for him. Not at all.

ZZZ

Diego dismounted Esperanza at the cave entrance. She wasn't trained to stump on the small board hidden on the ground to action the mechanism that opened the door, as Toronado was. He pressed the square piece of wood himself with his right foot and then walked in front of the horse, pulling from the reins, but the mare was scared to go through that narrow, dark passage, and suddenly pulled back. Diego cried in pain when the wound stretched against the stitches on his tense muscles.

"Come on, girl, don't be silly; you have to come in. I can't leave you out here."

Esperanza snorted and bobbed her head several times, refusing to walk. Diego had to talk to her gently and pat her neck repeatedly for a while to calm her down before the mare would let him take her inside the cave.

 _Mares,_ Diego thought. _They have a mind of their own, like all females. Like women. Males are much easier!_

After preparing a stall for Esperanza, he placed his left arm on a sling and sat down in his sturdy mahogany chair for a well-earned rest, while waiting for Felipe to come back to the hacienda.

ZZZ

When they arrived at the hacienda, Don Alejandro came inside with mixed feelings. He didn't know what to expect.

"Diego!" he called. Nobody answered. He walked to Diego's room, and saw the scattered clothes, open drawers and the general mess done by someone in a hurry to leave; someone who was very upset.

"He is not here," he said to Felipe and Mendoza, who followed him to the library.

Don Alejandro checked the safe that was hiding behind the picture. He opened it and realized the money was missing. Then, he headed for the stables, still refusing to acknowledge the fact Diego was actually gone, until he saw Esperanza's empty stall.

"Juan, were you here when my son left?"

The groom was mucking out at the far end of the stables, and left the fork on the bale of straw to face his patron.

"Yes. I saddled Esperanza for him a while ago. About half an hour or so."

"Where did he go? Did he tell you?" Don Alejandro asked, hopeful. Maybe he could catch up with him.

"No. He said he was going to visit someone. He didn't say who, or where. He carried with him a large saddle bag, quite heavy. I guess he'll be out for a few days."

"Thank you, Juan."

He came back to the house slowly, dragging his feet, with an heavy feeling of regret in his heart. The pain was so unbearable the sorrow morphed into anger, a feeling he could handle much, much better.

"He is gone!" Don Alejandro cried, coming into the library like a raging bull, in a bizarre reaction that startled Felipe and Mendoza. "He is definitely gone. But, why? Why now? He never does anything I tell him to do, and he chose to do it now!"

Don Alejandro felt so guilty about pushing his own son away he chose to show all that anger instead, all the anger that right now he should be directing to himself. But for the onlookers, he didn't look sad; he looked irrationally mad at Diego for following his command.

"But, Don Alejandro, you are being too harsh, aren't you? I was here, and you told Don Diego to leave the hacienda if he didn't follow you to help Felipe," Mendoza said.

Felipe was at a loss, perplexed. He didn't know what had happened at the hacienda after he left, and he could not believe Don Alejandro's reaction. He knew Diego would be at the cave, listening, and he was very sorry for him. This wasn't fair.

"So what? I was trying to spur him to do something! But I didn't mean to kick him out of the house. To be honest, I didn't think he had the guts to leave at all!"

Don Alejandro continued the rant, hiding his self-pity and sorrow. He was in denial, not accepting reality because it was too painful. _He_ had pushed his only son away. His mechanism of defence to cope with his feelings had resulted in projecting his own anger at Diego, rather than at himself, in the most peculiar, uncharacteristic way. He felt that otherwise, if he let go of the anger, he would lose control and go the opposite way, weeping like a baby.

Down at the cave, Diego was shocked by his father's yelling. He thought the old man was going to be sad, blaming himself for driving his son away. Instead, he was still mad at him.

 _He really despises me_ , Diego thought, feeling the rejection like a sword through his stomach. It was too much to bear. He was looking through the spy hole but could no longer stay there, as he was shaking. While his father continued shouting, he came back to the desk and sat down on his chair heavily, sinking on it.

Maybe it would have been better if the bandit had thrust his sword into his back instead of slicing his chest. It would certainly have been less painful for him than hearing that angry voice upstairs, and maybe the only way for his father to feel proud of him: to find out he was Zorro only to lose him immediately, with no time to release his anger for the deception.

ZZZZZ


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"And then, he called him a _coward_ ," Mendoza said that evening. He was addressing a group of soldiers and anybody else in the tavern, for that matter, willing or not to listen to that story, as his voice was so loud everybody could hear him.

"Yeah, that's true," Sepúlveda chimed in. "A coward. How embarrassing!"

"Don Alejandro was so mad at him... He told Don Diego he should leave the house if he didn't come with us to rescue Felipe. Even then, Don Diego still didn't want to come outside to help."

"I think he got scared when the bandits shot us at the hacienda," the corporal said.

Annoyed, Mendoza glanced at Sepúlveda, narrowing his eyes. He didn't like to be interrupted when he was telling a good gossip story, and that was the second time.

"And now he is gone. Don Diego has disappeared without a trace."

Victoria had been listening from the counter, and was so shocked by his words she had to find out more. She walked to Mendoza's table with another bottle of wine to refill their glasses.

"Sergeant Mendoza, what are you talking about? Where is Diego? What happened?"

"I don't know, señorita Victoria. Nobody knows where he is. He took his mare and didn't leave a note or anything behind. He just took off." The sergeant held his glass up while Victoria refilled it, and then gulped it down. "Thank you, señorita. I am so thirsty tonight."

"You are very welcomed, Sergeant. After all, you went on that search party to rescue Felipe."

"Yes, but, by the time we found him, Zorro had done the job for us, as usual."

"Yes. I do wonder how he manages to be everywhere, always ready when he is needed," she said with a dreamy look on her face.

"I don't know how he does it, but I am so glad he has that quality. Maybe he has spies among us?"

"Maybe. But, I have to tell you: I am not one of them. I wish I was; that way, maybe I could see him more often. Thank you, Sergeant."

She came back to the counter, mulling over the sergeant's words. She wondered what happened to Diego and where he was staying that night, and she also wondered how Don Alejandro was feeling now, in an empty house. She decided she would go for a visit at the hacienda De la Vega the next day if they didn't show up at the tavern.

ZZZ

"Why is he so angry, Felipe?" Diego asked when the youngster could finally sneak through the fireplace undetected. Felipe shrugged his shoulders. Then, he asked Diego what had happened after he had left the hacienda.

"I tried to get rid of them so I could go after you as Zorro. But I made a senseless remark, giving my father a silly excuse to stay behind on my own, and he went mad. I said: _"I'm going to stay behind in case they come back."_ How stupid was that?" He laughed a nervous, sad laugh. "He went crazy and called me a coward, and then he said that if I didn't go out with them, he didn't want to find me at the hacienda when he returned. Which he didn't. And now he is still mad. I don't get it. I thought he would be sad for pushing me away. I thought he loved me, as Diego, despite my weak character. Maybe I was mistaken, and I have gone too far with the charade, and nobody can love _that_ Diego."

Of course, Diego wasn't aware of his father's mental processes and how he was trying to cope with his own mistake by projecting his anger towards his son. Diego felt devastated for the rejection, worthless.

 _"I am sorry. I shouldn't have left the hacienda; none of this would have happened if I had stayed."_

"Yes, Felipe, you are right. You shouldn't have left the hacienda, because we were safer in there. But none of this is your fault. You thought it was the best thing to do at the time, and you were very brave. I am really proud of you."

Felipe smiled widely, his eyes beaming with pride.

 _"How is your wound? Are you all right? Should I have a look? You are still bleeding."_

Felipe pointed at a small blood stain in Diego's shirt, showing through the sling. Diego looked at it, and then waved his right hand as if it wasn't important.

"I'm fine, don't worry. I managed to stitch it up all right. But then Esperanza was quite reluctant to come into the cave and she pulled hard from the reins. I may have pulled some of the stitches… I'll have a look later. I would like to eat something first."

 _"Do you want me to get dinner for you?_ _María made pollo asado."_

"No, don't worry. I got some food before, when I collected some things to pretend I was gone." He walked to the rack where he had left Esperanza's saddle, and rummaged through the pockets in the saddle bag. "I'll be all right tonight. But please, don't forget about me, and sneak something for breakfast!"

Felipe smiled, nodding, and placed his hand on Diego's right shoulder when he sat down again at his chair, squeezing it softly. Diego smiled at the gesture and tapped the youngster's hand lightly. At least he had Felipe's unconditional support.

"Thank you, Felipe. I'll be all right. I just need to rest for a few days. While I am here, I'll have plenty of time to think and decide what I am going to do. Go upstairs now; I'll see you in the morning."

After Felipe left, Diego felt extremely lonely. His mind kept coming back to the days following his return from Spain, when he created Zorro. Maybe it wasn't so obvious, but he had created "coward Diego" at the same time. Many times before, he had questioned himself if creating Zorro had been a mistake, but now he also realized creating _that_ Diego was even worse. He had lost his father's love and respect, and he never got the love of Victoria; and he never would, the way he was going.

After more than three years of living with a split personality, he acknowledged he didn't know who he was anymore. He wasn't Zorro, but he wasn't Diego "the coward", either. And why everybody thought he was such a chicken, anyway? Diego had had his little moments of bravery in the past, like when he fought with Thackery. Quite badly, admittedly, but still, he took part in a duel with a sword against an accomplished swordsman. Why nobody ever remembered that? And, how on Earth it was possible nobody in the whole pueblo had yet grasped Diego and Zorro were never seen together?

Diego didn't want to continue like this anymore. He had to find a way to get out of this situation, and release his true self. But, who was that man?

Depressed, he imagined for a moment there was no Zorro, and then asked himself some questions. Would he still enjoy reading, as Diego did, and playing the piano, gardening, painting, writing poetry…? Yes, he still would enjoy doing those "bland" things. What about fencing and doing stunts? Yes, he may enjoy occasional fencing, but no way was he going to risk his neck doing stunts ever again. Or taking unnecessary risks. Once that Zorro was unmasked, he would be gone, while some of Diego would remain.

He realized then that maybe his true self was closer to boring Diego than daring Zorro, when he had always thought the opposite would be the case. It was a worrying thought. Especially when he thought about Victoria, who was only in love with Zorro the hero, and not Diego.

The more he thought about it, the more overwhelmed he felt. And the more he thought about Victoria, the more he longed to see her. In that lonely night, one of her kisses would probably make him feel better and forget about his father and the intense sadness he felt. At least, he would feel better emotionally, because he was sure a ride to the pueblo will do no good at all to his injury.

Acting on a whim, Diego took off the sling and removed his white shirt slowly. He changed the dressings, looking at the wound briefly. As he had feared, one of the stitches had cut through the skin and would need to be re-done. But that could wait. He applied more dressings to cover the wound, and put on the spared black shirt and the rest of Zorro's clothes and equipment. Injured or not, he needed to see Victoria to feel worthy of love again.

ZZZ

That night, Zorro could not climb to the window as he normally did. But it didn't matter, as it was still early. Victoria had just closed the tavern for the night, and she was in the kitchen tidying up. He sneaked through the back door and walked into the kitchen, startling her.

"Buenas noches, Victoria."

"Zorro!" she exclaimed with a broad grin, thrilled with the unexpected visit. She ran to his arms and hugged him tightly, pressing her cheek on his chest, right on his wound. He winced and let out a soft gasp, which Victoria noticed. She let go of him, lifting her head to look into his deep, blue eyes. That night, those eyes didn't glow with the usual passion, love and joy to see her. Instead, they looked troubled, and sad.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just that… It's so good to see you, Victoria." He leaned forward to kiss her, eager to drown his melancholy with her love. Right then, Diego needed to feel loved more than he needed to breathe, so he kissed her passionately, more so than ever before. With that move, he managed to make her forget there could be anything wrong with the world, and specially with him, but only for a moment. Then, her female intuition rang the alarm bell. Reluctantly, she pulled out so she could articulate some words, away from his mouth.

"What's the matter with you? Why are you so —?"

He didn't let her finish. He pushed her words back to her throat with another kiss, even more passionate than the first one, insatiable. At first, she melted in his arms, letting him explore every corner of her mouth, but when his gloved hands fondled her all over she finally felt overwhelmed and broke the embrace, stepping back. She repositioned her clothes, prudish and embarrassed, looking down at the floor, blushing red.

He felt ashamed of his behaviour. The fact that he felt so lonely and needy didn't give him any rights to assault her like that.

"I am so sorry, Victoria. Forgive me. I didn't mean to take advantage of you."

"What's wrong, Zorro? You are acting so weird tonight. Are you sick, or injured? Because you act like a man on death row; one that won't see another day."

"I was injured, yes, but I'm on the mend. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure you are all right? What happened?"

"Nothing. It's not important."

"Did something happen when you saved Felipe today?"

Zorro nodded. "Yes. But don't worry. I'm all right," he insisted.

"By the way, I didn't thank you for that. I'm so glad you helped that brave, young man. If only Don Diego could have an ounce of the courage Felipe has..."

Zorro tilted his head. It was so odd to hear Victoria talking about his other self like that.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Don Diego is my dear friend. I shouldn't be talking badly of him."

"Maybe. But you haven't finished. I am curious. What about him?" That looked like the perfect opportunity to explore her true feelings for Diego, and he didn't want to waste it.

"Well, I am a bit disappointed with him. We all are. Felipe left the house so Don Diego and Don Alejandro could be safe, and then Don Diego couldn't bother to help him."

"Fortunately, I saw Felipe galloping away chased by those bandits, so I could follow them. If I wasn't there, I don't know what would have happened to that young man."

"Nothing good, for sure. They would have killed him. I'm so grateful to you, Zorro."

"I heard Don Diego has argued with his father for that reason. Is that true?"

"Yes. According to Sergeant Mendoza, Don Alejandro was fuming, barking mad at his son."

"Don't believe everything the sergeant says. Remember he has a tendency for exaggeration."

"Corporal Sepúlveda was there too, and he said the same. It is true. And Don Diego has left the hacienda in shame. Nobody knows where he is."

"And… do you care?"

"Of course I do. He's my friend."

"But he is a weakling."

Victoria looked at him a bit cross, although embarrassed at the same time, and she didn't say anything else.

 _Silence gives consent_ , Diego thought, disappointed. After a few long seconds of uncomfortable silence, he could not hold back any longer. He needed to know, so he plunged in, rushing his words.

"What if I was Diego de la Vega, or someone similar? What would you do then? Would you still love me?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Don Diego can't be you."

"Why not?"

"Well, you two are so different. You are so daring, and brave, while he is…" She nearly said the word that was in everybody's mouth that evening, but she stopped herself in time. She felt embarrassed by it, as if she was failing her friend. She had already said too much.

"... a _coward_?" Zorro said, finishing her sentence. "Is that what you mean?"

She blushed, biting her lip.

"Well, I didn't mean to say that, but even his father called him a coward today, when he didn't help Felipe, while you did, and he is not even part of your family. Diego should have made an effort to help him. Anything, rather than staying at home looking at the walls!"

"You are too kind. To me, Diego de la Vega is worse than a coward. He is a spineless, gutless chicken, unable to fight for what matters most to him." He tried to spur her temper that way, and it worked.

"He is also my friend. And he is a good person, so don't talk about him like that! Not everybody is meant to go through life with a sword in hand, like you do."

 _Make up your mind, Victoria! I am a coward or not? Would you love me or not?_

"I'll repeat the question again. What would you do if I was Diego de la Vega, or someone similar to him? A boring, plain man under the mask; nothing like your daring hero. Would you still love me then?"

"I think so, but… why don't you let me try? Take off your mask. Let me see your face. Then I can tell you if I could love you."

"No, I can't do that. Not now." _Specially not now_.

"Why? Why don't you let me love you, the _real_ you?"

"Because I'm a coward at heart, Victoria. Worse than your friend. Worse than that De la Vega."

"That doesn't make sense. How can you be a coward at heart when you do the heroic things you do?"

"Yes, I am, because I'm afraid. I don't think I could ever tell you who I really am, because I'm afraid of your rejection. I prefer to have brief, stolen moments of solace with you as an outlaw rather than losing you for ever if I remove the mask."

"But then, I'll never know who you are. We will never have a chance to be together if you never tell me who you really are. Is that what you want?"

He didn't answer, but he didn't think it was necessary. He walked to the door slowly, sad and defeated, dragging his feet. When he was about to leave, he turned to face her.

"You know, Diego de la Vega may be braver than we think. At least he is consistently not afraid to be the pueblo's coward. But I am. Besides, I don't know who the _real_ me is. How can I tell you who that man is, then, if I don't know him myself?" He left the tavern quickly without saying goodbye, not looking back.

"What?" Victoria ran to the door, but when she opened it and stepped outside, Zorro had already disappeared into the darkness. She didn't have a clue what he had meant.

 _How can you not know who you are?_

ZZZZZ


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Felipe sneaked out of the kitchen carrying a tray with breakfast for Diego. At the library, he walked quickly through the secret door and pushed it back with his foot to close it faster because he had heard Don Alejandro lurking close by. He sighed, resting against the wall for a moment. If he had to do this three times a day for several days, he would inevitably get caught at some point.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he nearly dropped the tray. Diego was wearing Zorro's black clothes, without the mask, and was sprawled on the floor, face down. Felipe left the tray on the stairs and jumped out the last steps to get to Diego, fearing he may have been injured again.

He wasn't injured. He was drunk. An empty bottle of wine lay nearby, and another was half spilled in a puddle in front of him. It looked like Diego had passed out with too much alcohol last night.

 _Why are you dressed like Zorro?_ Felipe wondered. He kneeled at Diego's side and tapped his back gently. He didn't wake up, so he shook him roughly until he reacted.

"Huh? What?" Diego turned his body slowly to look at him, taking in his surroundings. "Felipe, why am I here? What happened?" he asked with a faltering, drunken voice. When Felipe showed him the empty bottle of wine, Diego retched. "I think I'm going to be sick!"

Felipe moved quickly to grab a bucket, which he placed in front of Diego's face just in time. Diego threw up all that wine while he recalled why he was in that bad shape. When he had finished, Felipe took the bucket away and left it at the other side of the cave, trying not to be sick as well with the stench of wine vomit.

 _"Why are you dressed in Zorro's clothes? Why are you drunk?"_ Felipe signed when he came back to his side. Diego had managed to sit down with some difficulty as he was so dizzy. He was a pathetic sight, dishevelled and worn-out.

"I was an idiot last night, Felipe. I felt so lonely down here I had to go to the tavern to see Victoria. And when I came back, I was so depressed I grabbed a couple of bottles from the cellar. Not a good idea. Not at all."

Diego never had a hangover before, because he hardly ever drank wine, and he reckoned it was the worse feeling ever. His head was throbbing as if someone was hitting it repeatedly with a mallet, and he still felt nauseous, weak and giddy, although his stomach was empty. He held his forehead with his right hand for a moment, before he continued talking.

"My head! Gosh, how do people keep drinking after the first time they get so drunk they pass out and feel like this? This is awful. Never again!" he vowed, as so many others before him had said the morning after, only to get drunk again the next time they had a chance.

Felipe helped him to stand and walked him to the bed, where he slumped like a dead weight.

"Thank God I have nothing else to do today other than sleeping and being miserable. Thank you, Felipe."

The youngster covered his mentor with a blanket and watched him snooze away. He got another empty bucket close to the bed, in case he would feel sick again, which was very likely, and the tray with food which contained a jar full of coffee. He was going to need the coffee later, definitely. By the time Felipe got to the stairs to leave the cave, Diego was snoring with his mouth open. Felipe shook his head, and went upstairs chuckling.

ZZZ

"Good morning Felipe. You are up and about early this morning," Don Alejandro said when he found him in the library. Felipe signed he couldn't sleep well thinking about Diego, and left the room in a hurry.

"Yeah, same here," he mumbled. Don Alejandro had been thinking about his son all night, and he looked tired for the lack of sleep and the worry.

Don Alejandro found a letter addressed to him wedged in a mirror's frame. It was from Diego. He was quite sure that letter wasn't there yesterday, but maybe he had missed it as he was so upset. It was also possible someone had found it somewhere else, or it had fallen from its position yesterday, and now it had been placed there for him to find it this morning. Maybe Felipe had left it there.

The day before, Don Alejandro thought it was odd Diego had disappeared without leaving any kind of message. Now, he hoped he had left some information of his whereabouts and his plans on that letter. He sat down in one of the armchairs and opened the envelope, expectantly. _It is Diego's handwriting, sure, but he must have been quite upset himself when he wrote it, obviously, as his usually neat writing is quite shoddy this time,_ he thought. Then, he read the words slowly, taking the unsettling message in.

 _"…I am very sorry to be a disappointment for you, father. I am ashamed of my behaviour. You are right to call me a coward, because that's what I am._

 _I made the decision to travel back to Madrid to join the army, so when I return to California in a few years, I will be a new man you can be proud of…"_

"What!" he exclaimed out loud. _The army? In Spain? Are you crazy? You'll be killed in one of those stupid wars against France or England!_

Don Alejandro could not transform his grief into anger any more to cope with it, and he started crying, convulsing with the guilt he felt to have pushed his only son away like that. He would probably never see Diego again, and would only find out about his death in some forsaken battlefield in Europe months or even years after it had happened.

It took him a while to sober up and stop crying. Then, he walked to the kitchen to get a lime flower tea to calm his nerves, leaving the letter behind on the side table.

Felipe had seen a letter addressed to Don Alejandro in the mirror when he came back through the fireplace, and had recognized Diego's handwriting, but he didn't touch it because the old don came into the room. Felipe had waited patiently in the adjacent room, and when he saw Don Alejandro leaving the library in a state a few minutes later, he walked back in. He saw the now open letter on the table and read it quickly. Puzzled by its content, he opened the secret door and stepped down into the cave again, carrying the letter with him.

Diego was still asleep. In fact, he hadn't moved at all. Felipe shook him up. When he woke up, he waved the letter in his face.

"Huh? What? What's that?"

Felipe fussed about, shaking the letter, poking it with his index finger, looking very upset. Confused, Diego took a while to vaguely recognize that piece of paper.

"Is that…? Is that the letter I wrote to my father last night? Did I leave it upstairs? I can't remember if I did…"

 _"Yes, you did!"_ Felipe signed, angry. _"Are you really going to join the army in Spain?"_

"What? Is that what I said? Nah… don't worry. Of course not. I don't need to join the army to learn how to use a sword, do I? It was an excuse to disappear for a while, and come back as a " _new brave man_ ," someone who can use a sword, a rifle, chase bandits… and even spit and brawl at the tavern, so Victoria can be impressed by my manliness." He chuckled, but Felipe didn't find it funny.

 _"Stop laughing! This is serious! Your father is quite upset about this."_

"Is he now? Well, I'm quite upset about his words, too, so we are even. Now, if you excuse me, I'm too exhausted to think about this, or anything else, for that matter. I'll talk to you later, when I don't feel as if my head is about to explode." He drank some water and then covered his head with the blanket, trying to fall back asleep. It didn't take him long.

Felipe pouted, but gave up on the discussion and ran upstairs to leave the letter at the side table before Don Alejandro would miss it.

ZZZ

Victoria couldn't sleep well last night either. She was worried about Diego, but especially, she was worried about Zorro, who had left the tavern in a rush without saying goodbye, when he had been so passionate to start with. Was he serious when he said he was never going to let her know his real self? Was this the end of their affair?

She decided to pay a visit to Don Alejandro to keep her mind occupied, not thinking about Zorro, focusing on her friend Diego instead. When she arrived, Don Alejandro was at the library drinking a cup of herbal tea, mulling over the contents of a letter.

"Thank you, María," she said to the house keeper who had guided her to the library.

"De nada, señorita Victoria. Have a nice day."

"Good morning, Don Alejandro. I heard what happened with Diego yesterday. I am very sorry. Do you have any news? Do you know where he is?"

"Good morning, Victoria. Thanks for coming. Yes, as a matter of fact, I do have some news… but they are not so good. I found this letter today," he said, handing it over to Victoria. "I didn't see it yesterday. Please, have a seat and read it."

Victoria sat down and read the letter. Don Alejandro watched her facial expressions changing as she read. When she looked shocked, he knew she had got to the crucial part: joining the army.

"He is not serious about this, is he? He is not made for military life! Do you remember what happened when the alcalde recruited him? He didn't last long. In fact, not even a whole day."

"Yes, I know. This is ridiculous. I need him here, at home. He is the heir to this hacienda; he should be here, learning the business, not fighting foreigners in Europe! There is no need for that at all. Even less at his age; he is not twenty any more. Don't get me wrong, I am proud he had made that decision to improve his current situation, but this is completely unnecessary." He paused, sulking again. Then, he continued, with a shaky voice: "It is my fault; I shouldn't have called him a coward," he admitted, nearly crying again.

"No, it's not your fault. I'm sure you got carried away in the heat of the moment. Felipe was in danger; it was only natural you expected Diego to do something instead of staying at home. I would have done the same, I think."

"Maybe I should have been more subtle, because Mendoza was there… I guess everybody knows by now. The good sergeant can't keep it to himself when he knows some juicy gossip."

"You are absolutely right about that. Last night, at the tavern, he and Corporal Sepúlveda painted a colourful picture of the argument between you two, for everybody to hear."

"And what did people say?" He was afraid of that answer, but still, he wanted to know.

"Basically, everybody agreed Diego is a spineless coward; he has always been one; and he'll ever be one."

"Not always. He was quite daring when he was young, don't you remember? But something happened when he went to Spain. He changed. The Diego that returned wasn't the same as the young Diego that left California. Don't you think so?"

"Yes, I agree, Don Alejandro. Do you think he may have some unfinished business at Madrid, and that's why he wants to go back there?" Victoria thought about that woman on the circus Diego had been about to marry while at university. Maybe there was someone else in his past they didn't know about?

"I don't know, maybe. He never told me much about what he did there; he has always been quite evasive about it. For example, I enrolled him to study fencing with Sir Edmund Kendall, but he didn't learn much. He said he was busy with his studies and he was pathetic at fencing, so he gave up. Can you believe that? None of this would be happening if he had completed that fencing course. He could be confident with the sword instead of a delicate piano player!"

"Well, Diego had his little moments of courage, too. Do you remember when he defended me from that vile Englishman, Thackery? He challenged Diego to a duel, and he fought as best he could… which wasn't great, but your son was very brave. I was grateful he twisted his ankle and could not continue; otherwise Thackery would have killed him."

"Oh, yes, I remember that. I was so proud of him that day."

Felipe was listening to the conversation hiding beside the door. He was delighted but upset at the same time because Diego was asleep, missing all their comments, and he probably would not believe him later.

"You know, when I told him I didn't want to find him here at my return I was sure he was going to come with us. That tactic to spur him backfired so badly. I can't stop thinking about it. If I had kept my mouth shut, he'd still be here."

"Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind, Don Alejandro. You did it with a good intention."

"That's exactly what I thought yesterday, _cruel to be kind_. What a stupid saying that is. There is never any need to be cruel with someone you love, about anything."

"Uh…No, I guess not." She thought about Zorro then. Was he acting cruel to be kind by not revealing his identity to her? He must be, otherwise it didn't make much sense.

They were silent for a little while, thinking about it. Then, they continued remembering anecdotes about Diego, and some of them put a smile on their face. After half an hour of chatting, she excused herself because she had to go back to the tavern. Don Alejandro thanked Victoria for the visit, as she had made him feel a bit better. However, when she left, he read the letter one more time and he sulk again, exactly as Diego had predicted he would do.

After a while, he realized there could be a way to find Diego. If he was going to Spain, he should board a ship. The nearest port was San Pedro, not far away from Los Angeles. Excited, he decided to ride there to find out when the next ship would sail for Spain, and look for Diego to apologize and make him change his mind.

"Juan, can you saddle Dulcinea for me, please? I am going to San Pedro to look for Diego."

"Sí, patrón. Enseguida. Is that where Don Diego is? San Pedro? But that's not far away, and he was carrying a lot of luggage."

"He may try to get on a ship to Spain; that's what I am going to find out."

ZZZ

Diego's hangover lasted until the evening. When he sobered up and the headache was gone, he tidied up the mess from the night before. While cleaning the floor, he saw a few pieces of paper scrunched into little balls, littering the place around his desk. He sighed when he saw them. They were the failed attempts to write a significant letter to Victoria last night.

 _Thank God I didn't get so carried away to deliver any of these last night. First, I would have fallen off Toronado; second, they are awful, and too embarrassing._

He had tried hard, but he had been unable to write a letter to Victoria that would make sense and expressed exactly what he wanted to say. In comparison, writing that drunken letter to his father was much easier.

He collected the discarded, crunched pieces of paper that lay everywhere, and threw them in the bin to burn them later. Then he got the bucket Felipe had left abandoned at the other side of the cave and walked through the corridor to the exit door to throw its revolting contents outside, in the small brook that ran nearby.

When he came back to the cave Felipe was there with another tray with dinner, looking worried because he wasn't there.

"Ah, Felipe. So good to see you. Sorry about my behaviour before; that was embarrassing. Forgive me. I am feeling much better now, and hungry, thank you." He grabbed the tray with his right hand only, as his left arm was still supported by the sling, and he looked at its contents with interest.

Felipe was glad to see Diego back to normal. He started signing the news.

"My father has gone to the port to look for me? To San Pedro?"

Felipe nodded, and continued signing.

"He is worried about me going to Spain… But there is no need to worry about that, is it?" he winked at Felipe.

 _"He left this morning but hasn't come back yet. He should be here by now."_

"Probably he is staying the night there in one of the pensions, or one of the lively taverns at the port. It will take him a while to enquire about me. Don't worry."

 _"Victoria was here this morning to see your father. They are very worried about you. If you had listened to that conversation instead of being asleep, you'd realize you are overreacting. They love you. Both of them."_

"Yes, you are probably right and I am overreacting. I have been thinking about it, and that plan pretending to be away in the army to give Diego a chance to become brave won't work unless I tell them first. Victoria may decide to marry someone else in the meantime otherwise. It is a stupid plan, made by a drunken, desperate mind. It would be better if I tell them my secret instead, but I don't know how to do it. I could bear to be the village coward for ever if at least I have their support, but I need to think carefully about it. I need more time. So, while this wound heals, I'll stay here devising a plan to placate their fury at the reveal. Not looking forward to that, to be honest."

He laughed it off, shaking his head, and started munching the delicious food on the tray.

ZZZZZ


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

(Some of the following refers to the season 3 episode " _Alejandro rides again_ ")

ZZZ

When Don Alejandro arrived at San Pedro he couldn't find any traces of Diego. The next ship scheduled to travel to Cádiz would set sail in three weeks' time. No one fitting Diego's description had booked a berth for that sailing. Don Alejandro left a generous tip to the man in charge of arranging passengers in the ship so he could send a messenger to the hacienda De la Vega if a tall, black haired caballero with blue eyes tried to book a place, under Diego de la Vega or any other false name.

Then, the old don roamed the taverns at the port, searching for his son or any information on his whereabouts. In one of them, called " _La Perla_ ", he ran into his old comrades from the 5th Spanish Cavalry Regiment.

"Carlos! Pablo! Juan! What are you three old buzzards doing here?"

"Alejandro! How good to see you again!" said Carlos Frontera, former captain of that regiment, who served under the command of Don Alejandro. He stood up and hugged his friend enthusiastically, the same as the other two men. "This is so weird. We were talking about you, and… bang! You came through the door! That must be Destiny!"

"What were you talking about? What are you up to?"

"After our success capturing Córdoba, we have decided to take our skills to a new level. We are going to become professional bounty hunters," Pablo said, looking serious. Don Alejandro laughed.

"What? _Bounty hunters_? That's the craziest idea I've ever heard. Why do you want to do that?" Don Alejandro was puzzled.

"Well… look, Alejandro, I am a bit embarrassed to say it as it is, but none of us did so well in life as you did after we left the military. We don't have a hacienda to take care of, or a family, and we are quite short of cash at the moment. We could get 5000 pesos if we capture another outlaw, Joaquín Salvador," Frontera said.

"Salvador? He was last seen around Santa Paula three months ago. His gang robbed the stagecoach from Monterey, killing his driver."

"Yes, and we think he is about to do the same in Los Angeles. He just came back to the area. We have some good intel from a reliable source about this," Juan said.

"But Salvador is not an old man like Córdoba. He is in his prime."

"Yes, we know that. Actually, we were thinking we are a man short to carry out our plan to capture him, and we were just talking about you. The only problem for us is that you won't want to take part in this venture only for the money, and there is nothing personal for you to avenge this time," Pablo said.

"What do you mean? That I would chicken out because it doesn't concern me?"

"Not at all. You are the bravest man I know, Alejandro, and the way you won that fist-fight with Córdoba was very impressive, but we can't expect you to leave everything behind to follow us in this risky adventure, can we?" Frontera said.

The recent events had made Don Alejandro too vulnerable about the bravery issue. His son may have been branded a coward, but he wasn't one, and if it was necessary he could display enough courage for two De la Vegas.

"Yes, you can! I'll help you out, muchachos. When do we start?" Don Alejandro said impulsively, in a whim.

"You are the man, Alejandro!" Pablo cheered lifting his drink, and the other two cheered as well, enthusiastically.

"We'll ride again! Nothing can stop us!" Carlos Frontera said.

"Other than arthritis," Don Alejandro said, and they all laughed while tapping each other's back.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro stayed the night at the tavern where his friends had taken quarters. He asked them if they had seen Diego at San Pedro, as they have been there for a couple of days already, but they hadn't. He gave up on the search then, hoping the man he had bribed at the port would send the messenger if Diego showed up, as agreed. As the ship would not sail for another three weeks, he'd have plenty of time to check again later if he still hadn't heard from his son.

In the morning they rode to the hacienda De la Vega so Don Alejandro could collect his weapons. Felipe saw him priming his pistols, and asked him why he needed them for.

"Felipe, I am helping my friends here to capture the outlaw Joaquín Salvador. Diego may have become the pueblo's coward, thanks to my unfortunate remark, but I'll do my best to keep the De la Vega's legendary bravery alive."

Felipe could not believe it. He followed the old don to the entrance, looking so upset Don Alejandro tried to reassure him and calm him down, thinking he was nervous to be left alone in the house after his bad experience with the bandits only two days ago.

"Don't worry, Felipe. The bandits are not coming to the hacienda this time. You stay here inside the house, please. Stay safe. Don't ride outside again. I'll be fine. We should be back this evening, 5000 pesos richer. You'll see." He tapped the young man's shoulder and then mounted back on Dulcinea, carrying his rifle, sword and pistols. "Venga, muchachos. To the _Cañón del Diablo_!"

After they left, Felipe wasted no time and ran to the secret entrance at the fireplace to tell Diego about it. Unfortunately, María was cleaning the windows at the library, and he could not use it. He had to go outside and run all the way to the cave's back door, with a great delay to deliver his message.

ZZZ

"You have to be kidding me, Felipe. Again? Do they really believe it was them who captured Córdoba the last time the _dream team_ went on parade? Don't they even question the possibility they had a little bit of help from Zorro, or someone else? Well, that's another level beyond denial! Go figure."

Diego was furious. It was easy for his father to call him a coward if in turn he was expecting to have a son as reckless as he was, because they seemed to be on opposite ends on the spectrum of courage. Although sometimes his father didn't show courage; he walked on the edge of stupidity.

"What should I do now, Felipe? Of course I'll have to ride after them to collect the pieces when their _infallible_ plan falls apart again. Or maybe I shouldn't help them this time so they are hit with reality about their long-gone skills. But, even if he doesn't love me anymore, I still love my father too much to leave him on his own. _Maldita sea_!"

Suddenly, with a hasty and impatient move, he pulled apart his white shirt front, with buttons flying everywhere, and removed the shirt to throw it on the floor. Doing this, the stitches pulled again on his wound, adding to his frustration, and he growled, extremely irritated.

 _"Calm down!"_ Felipe signed. _"And don't say your father doesn't love you. Of course he does, I told you that."_

"Calm down? I can't calm down!" Diego cried while putting Zorro's black shirt on in a hurry. "This is ridiculous. He is approaching sixty, for goodness sake! He can't go out in a rampage seeking justice as if he was Don Quixote. This is… this is… Arghhh!" He growled again, as he couldn't find the words to describe his feelings. In a way, he was acting exactly as his father had done, transforming his anxiety for him into anger to cope. But he couldn't see it.

"Don't just stand there! Saddle Toronado, will you?" Diego barked. He finished getting all the Zorro gear on while Felipe bridled and saddled the black stallion. When everything was ready, he mounted up slowly.

"I'm sorry, Felipe. I shouldn't yell at you, but I don't know why I'm so angry. You are right, I should calm down. I'll need a clear head if I am going to be of any help." He grabbed the reins, and Toronado neighed loudly, bobbing his head up and down, ready for action. "Don't worry. I'll catch up with them on the way to Diablo Canyon, before anything happens. Can you please go to the garrison and get the soldier's help? I think we are going to need it. Thank you, Felipe."

ZZZ

Don Alejandro and his friends headed to Diablo Canyon at a good pace, with their spirits high. This time, they had the perfect plan, and they were confident they could pull it out. However, they didn't think Salvador would have scouts out that morning. They were planning the next robbery, and they spotted the well-armed riders heading to the canyon where they had set camp. One of them rode back quickly to alert the others, while the other two bandits followed the hunters.

When they reached the entrance to the valley, about three miles away from the canyon, they got ambushed. Sharpshooters were up the two smalls hills that flanked the clearing, and they shot their rifles at the intruders. One of them hit Frontera's horse, and they both fell to the ground.

"Take cover!" Don Alejandro said, jumping off his horse as fast as his age allowed him. He took his rifle from the saddle and ran to hide behind a boulder. The others followed his command, and also took cover quickly. From his hiding place, the old don shot the men on the hill, but the bullet ricocheted in a rock, not hitting anyone.

"Carlos! Are you all right?" he shouted while reloading.

"He's out! I'll get him. Cover me!" Juan said, leaving his cover behind an old, dead trunk to help his friend. Carlos Frontera had hit his head on a rock and was lying unconscious in the middle of the clearing.

"Wait!" Don Alejandro shouted, as he was still reloading the rifle. It was a good weapon, more accurate than a musket, but it always took him a while to ram the bullet in position through the muzzle.

Juan was killed by a gunshot to the head before he could reach Frontera.

"No!" Don Alejandro cried. He stood up for a moment, shocked, but ducked again quickly when another bullet hit the boulder, close to his head. "Stay put, Pablo!"

ZZZ

Zorro was following the four men at a fast gallop, but it wasn't fast enough to catch up with them in time. When he heard the gunshots he spurred Tornado, but the poor horse, as much as he tried, could hardly run any faster.

He was close to the clearing when the bandits shot Juan down. Before they could spot him, he swerved and galloped back around the hill to his right. There, he saw another two bandits, who were closing in behind the old soldiers. Sword in hand, he jumped on them by surprise and, ignoring his own pain, he neutralized them quickly hitting them on the head with his sword hilt. Then, he took their weapons and tossed them away.

"I am Joaquín Salvador," someone shouted from the hill. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"We are going to bring you to justice, murderer!" Don Alejandro shouted back in anger, with his back resting against the boulder, trying not to offer any part of his anatomy to the shooters.

"You and what army, old man?" Salvador said, laughing. "Keep shooting. They'll surrender soon," he shouted to his men. A few more shots were fired from the hills, not reaching the targets.

"Lie low, Pablo. They can't get us!" Don Alejandro said.

A stalemate situation developed when the bandits kept shooting but Alejandro and Pablo stood still behind their parapets. They kept their positions for a while, giving Zorro some time to go up the hill to take the bandits by surprise. He took a swing at the first one, hitting his face so hard he knocked him unconscious. Zorro took his right hand to his wound, hissing. He was quite sure it had come open again and it was bleeding, but he could not take care of it until he had dealt with all the bandits. And the only way to do it would be shooting at them. He could not continue delivering punches to spare their miserable lives; it was too painful.

Zorro lay low as well for a while, spotting all the bandits firing from both hills. He counted three, two on the opposite hill, and one above him. Determined to save his father, he grabbed the loaded rifle the unconscious bandit had dropped. Then he aimed at the opposite hill and waited until one of the shooters came out from behind a tree to fire his weapon. Zorro shot the rifle and hit him on his shoulder. The bandit cried in pain and dropped his rifle, which tumbled down the hill.

 _Zorro!_ Don Alejandro thought, hopeful.

Zorro reloaded the rifle and waited again. He saw one of the two men he had knocked out before with his sword's hilt. That man was approaching his father, but Zorro didn't have time to aim and shoot him, as he moved so fast. The bandit came around the boulder to take Don Alejandro by surprise. He didn't have any weapons, but he jumped on the older man, confident he could overpower him with his punches. Zorro cursed, regretting not to spend some time tying his hands when he had the chance. Don Alejandro struggled with his attacker, as they both rolled on the ground. The man above Zorro fired against Pablo, who had moved out to help his old commander, but he missed. Pablo retreated quickly behind the tree trunk again.

Don Alejandro managed to stand up, the same as his attacker, and took a swing at the bandit, who replied with another punch to the old don's face. Then, Salvador came out from behind an earth wall to shoot Don Alejandro, but Zorro shot him first, hitting Salvador's chest.

 _Only one more up there,_ he thought, looking up the hill. Zorro climbed down a little to have a better view, and to get closer to assist his father, who had reached for his pistol.

ZZZ

Victoria couldn't take no for an answer. Felipe had come into the pueblo to alert the soldiers about the outlaw named Salvador, who had set camp in Diablo Canyon. While the soldiers got ready, she saddled her horse as well and joined Felipe, ignoring his gestures telling her to go back to the tavern.

"We'll follow the soldiers from a safe distance, Felipe. I want to make sure Don Alejandro is all right." _And also Zorro, as he'll probably show up there. He always knows where trouble is, and I need to see him. I need to talk to him, as he may not come to the tavern for weeks_ , she thought.

Felipe insisted she should stay, as he wanted to get there on his own in case Zorro would need some help, but Victoria would not have it. In the end, they rode together to _Cañón del Diablo_ behind the soldiers.

ZZZ

The man with the rifle was on the hill above him, using a boulder as parapet, and Zorro could not reach him. Unfortunately, this time he didn't have a crossbow at hand to neutralize the sharpshooter, and the whip was not long enough.

The bandit finished reloading his rifle. While reloading his weapon, Zorro saw that man taking the rifle to his shoulder, looking for a target. But he didn't aim at Zorro below him, or at Pablo; he aimed at Don Alejandro instead, who had just knocked out his adversary by hitting his temple with the pistol. The old don was stumbling, dazed and confused after he had been punched on his face, unaware of the danger and not seeking cover.

"Watch out!" Zorro cried.

He dropped the half-loaded rifle and ran toward his father as fast as he could to push him out of the line of fire, as he didn't have time to do anything else. When the bandit fired the rifle, Zorro was about to reach Don Alejandro, but he wasn't quite there yet.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro cried in pain when the bullet hit him, only scratching the top of his shoulder. He looked up and saw Zorro, who was all of a sudden standing in front of him, when he wasn't there only a moment ago. The masked man gave him a funny look, with his eyes full of pain and regret, and then his legs gave weight and he dropped to the ground, face down. Right then, Don Alejandro realized the bullet that had hit him so superficially must have passed through Zorro's body first. Angry, he lifted his loaded gun and fired to the bandit, who took cover behind the boulder one more time, avoiding the bullet. Then, the old don reached for the young, brave man that had saved his life.

"Zorro, you've been hit!" He kneeled beside him and turned him on his back, lifting his torso off the ground to help him up. "How bad is it?"

"Bad," the masked man whispered, wincing. "You… all right?"

"Yes, yes, I'm all right. The bullet only scratched me. You saved my life, Zorro! Thank you. How can I ever repay you?" The old don pressed on the wound on Zorro's chest to try to stop the bleeding, and the masked man cried in pain, grasping Don Alejandro's arm tightly to stop him. At that moment the soldiers arrived, only a little too late.

"The soldiers are here!" Don Alejandro said, panicking.

"Help me up," Zorro whispered. He whistled for Toronado, too weakly, but the horse was ready and came at once to rescue his master. Don Alejandro helped Zorro up the saddle as quickly as he could, grunting with the effort to push his large frame up. From the distance, he heard the alcalde's cry:

"Zorro is there! Lancers, get him!"

But the soldiers were busy finding unconscious or injured bandits and chasing the remaining one, and they ignored his command.

"Can you get help?" Don Alejandro asked. Zorro didn't answer, busy as he was trying to find the stirrups with his feet, a simple task that took him a while this time. Then, Zorro took hold of Toronado's reins on his shaky hands. "Come to the hacienda, then. I'll get the doctor. We'll help you, Zorro. You are not alone this time!"

Zorro nodded slowly, and gently pressed at the stallion's flanks to flee the site.

Tornado cantered away, not as fast as usual or Zorro would have fallen off the saddle. De Soto spurred his horse and came around the hill quickly, to chase him at full gallop. Don Alejandro got on the way, waving his arms like a windmill, yelling and crying for help, looking very distressed. He spooked the alcalde's horse, which jumped awkwardly to a side to avoid that scary, crazy man. As a result of such unexpected swerve, De Soto fell off the saddle. He hit the ground hard, creating a cloud of dust around him. His horse galloped away, abandoning his rider.

"De la Vega! I'll have your head for this!"

ZZZZZ

 **A.N – I am sorry, but this was inevitable. You had three chapters without any maiming, or only "psychological maiming", as reviewer Julie said (if such thing exists).**

 **It was about time someone got hurt. Several of them. Badly. Ouch.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"De la Vega! Why did you get on the way? You helped Zorro to escape!" De Soto yelled when he stood up.

"No, I didn't. I needed help. I am injured, and my friend has been shot as well. Excuse me." Don Alejandro walked away and approached Pablo, who was kneeling in the middle of the clearing ignoring the soldiers while tending to his comrades.

"Pablo, are you all right?"

"Yes, Alejandro. I'm fine." He was looking at his friend Juan, with tears in his eyes. "Juan is dead."

"Yes. I'm so sorry. I couldn't cover him. I was still reloading. Maldita sea!" _Why did you try to be the hero, Juan?_ he thought, full of regret. At the military, it was always hard for him to lose a man under his command, especially if he was a close friend. "What about Carlos? Is he all right?"

"I think he will be." Pablo poured some water on his face and Carlos woke up, coughing.

"Are you all right?" Don Alejandro said.

"What happened?" Frontera said coming back to life, blinking.

"Your horse was shot down and you banged your head on a rock," Pablo explained.

"Did we win?"

"Yes, we did. Although Juan didn't make it," Don Alejandro said. They helped Carlos up gently. "Can you walk?"

"Yes. What do you mean he didn't —" He spotted Juan lying dead on the ground. "Mierda."

"He died trying to save you, Carlos. He was a hero," Pablo said.

"Of course he was. What about you, Alejandro? Are you all right? You are bleeding."

"I'm all right, Carlos. It's just a scratch on my shoulder. Some of the blood is not even mine; it's Zorro's."

"Zorro was here?" Carlos said. "Helping us?"

"Yes. He saved my life. He got on the way and got shot. I need to go back to the hacienda now to help him. Are you all right? You can come to the hacienda as well when you are ready."

"We'll take care of Juan. You go and help Zorro. Don't worry about us," Pablo said.

"Thank you, amigos. I'll see you later."

Don Alejandro called his horse, hoping Dulcinea had not run away with all that shooting. Fortunately, she was still nearby, and came back at a lazy trot. Don Alejandro was proud of the way he had trained his horses, and he liked to compare himself to Zorro. He was about to mount up when he saw Felipe and Victoria arriving at the clearing.

"Don Alejandro, are you all right?" Victoria asked, dismounting her horse, worried by the small blood stain in the old don's shoulder, and the other stains in his hands and sleeves.

"Yes, don't worry about me. It's just a flesh wound; I don't even feel it." He could consider himself really lucky: he had been shot twice during the last three days with no consequences. "Victoria, I don't know how to say this…" He paused for a moment, trying to find the words to tell her the bad news.

"What?"

"Zorro has been shot," he added with a low tone, so nobody else could hear him. He sighed deeply, bracing for her reaction.

She paled immediately, shocked by the news. She had arrived at the scene with Felipe and the soldiers, worried something could happen to Don Alejandro and his friends. She wasn't expecting anything to happen to Zorro, as he always seemed to get away without a scratch. Except for the last time, of course. At the tavern he said he had been injured while rescuing Felipe.

"How bad is it? Will he be all right?"

"I don't know, Victoria. I'm so sorry."

She burst into tears, inconsolable. Don Alejandro hugged her, trying to give her some comfort, and also to hide her reaction from the alcalde.

"He saved my life. He got on the way and the bullet went through his torso before it scratched my shoulder."

"Where is he?" she asked, with her face still buried in Don Alejandro's chest.

"I don't know. I helped him to get on Toronado to escape." Then, he lowered his voice even more, whispering to her ear. "I told him to come to the hacienda so we could help him. Come with us, so we are ready when he shows up." He let go of her, and wiped off some of her tears with his thumbs. "Come on, stop crying. You don't want the alcalde to see you, do you? I'm not sure he realized Zorro was hit, because he didn't try to chase him again after I spooked his horse. Maybe not, if we are lucky."

Victoria shook her head, and wiped her tears away, determined. No, she didn't want the alcalde knowing Zorro was injured.

"Come on. Let's go. I don't want Zorro getting there before we do," she said.

"That's my girl," Don Alejandro said, proud of her. He thought it was a shame he hardly ever had felt that proud of his own son since he had returned from Spain.

Sergeant Mendoza walked by and Don Alejandro called him.

"Sergeant, I've been injured in my shoulder. Can you please tell the doctor to come to see me as soon as possible? I want to go home now. I don't feel well."

"Yes, Don Alejandro, of course. I'll tell him. I'll go back to the pueblo right now."

"Thank you, Sergeant." He saluted his friends and then signed to Felipe and Victoria, urging them to get on their horses.

ZZZ

Zorro was having trouble staying in the saddle upright. He felt so weak and dizzy he had to lean forward to rest on Toronado's neck, hoping for the best while heading back to the hacienda De la Vega at a low pace. The wound was bleeding like a fountain, and he had trouble breathing. He knew the injury was serious and he probably would not make it. He considered for a moment if he should go back to the cave or show up at the front door. As he thought he was dying, the front door looked like the faster option, and in the end, after he was dead, it would not matter who knew he was Zorro or not. But at least, he wanted to show his father who had really saved him. Ironically, over the last couple of days he had thought the only way his father would be proud of him without going mad at the reveal would be to unmask for him right before he died from an injury. Maybe the saying was true: _be careful what you wish for because you just may get it._

However, he felt bad about the whole situation, and hoped his father would not get in trouble with the alcalde. Maybe it would have been better to tell him back there, while he was in his arms, and then die in peace at that clearing instead of bringing trouble home for nothing.

In the end, Toronado made that decision for him, heading to the hacienda rather than to the cave, because Zorro had passed out half way there. His last conscious thought was the realization he would never see Victoria's face again, and the regret of never letting her know his true self either.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro, Felipe and Victoria arrived at the hacienda at full gallop. There was no sign of Zorro anywhere, and they hadn't seen him along the way. Felipe sneaked into the secret entrance and checked the cave. Diego wasn't there, nor was Toronado.

Don Alejandro engaged in a frantic activity collecting rags and other materials to make bandages, ignoring his own wound, while Victoria prepared some infusions and poultices. Felipe waited by the window, scanning the horizon, coming back to the cave from time to time in case Diego would go directly there.

The fourth time he came back through the fireplace, he heard Toronado neighing outside. He ran to the window, and saw the black horse approaching, walking slowly so Zorro would not fall off the saddle, as he would surely do at a faster pace.

Felipe wanted to call out to the others, but no sound came out of his throat. Instead of wasting time finding them, he stepped out at the front door, frantic. Toronado stopped and neighed loudly again, calling for help, stamping on the ground with his right hand. Doing so, he put weight on his left front leg, leaning on it, and Zorro slid off the saddle in slow motion on that side, hitting the ground with a loud thud before the youngster could reach him.

"Zorro!" Felipe cried, running to his side.

From the kitchen, Victoria thought she had heard someone calling for Zorro. She walked to the parlour, where she met Don Alejandro. The front door was open, and they came outside to find Felipe tending for Zorro, with his hands covered in blood.

"Santa María Virgen! He is here!" the old don exclaimed. "Come on, Felipe. Let's get him inside!"

ZZZ

De Soto got to the conclusion Zorro was seriously injured. He had seen Don Alejandro helping the black clad figure up his stallion, which was odd, and then, that irritating trio of Zorro's greatest supporters had left the scene in a hurry. While looking for a horse, he saw the sergeant ready to go as well.

"Mendoza! Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get the doctor, mi Alcalde. Don Alejandro was shot."

"Was he?" _That scratch didn't look serious as to need the doctor. It's not worse than the one he already has in his arm_ , De Soto thought.

"Look, Sergeant, clear all this mess, get the bandits to jail, and I will get Doctor Hernández in the meantime. I will escort him to the De la Vega hacienda personally."

"Will you do that? That's so considerate of you, mi Alcalde," the naïve sergeant said with a big smile.

 _Idiot! I don't give a damn about De la Vega, but he will hang for treason if my suspicions are correct. He knows who Zorro is and he is helping him. But I won't let the doctor treat him this time._

ZZZ

"Why is Diego not here? Why is he never here when I need him the most? He's always out for one reason or another!" Don Alejandro said while trying to stop the bleeding by pressing with the rags on the gunshot wound, unsuccessfully. They had placed Zorro's inert body on a large table while they treated the wound. "He would know what to do until the doctor arrives."

"Well, you know why Diego is not here today, or have you forgotten?" Victoria said with an accusatory tone, forgetting the kindness and the sympathetic, understanding attitude she had showed the day before.

"It was his fault I had to give him a kick up his backside so he would show me some spine… but still, I got nothing. I did it for him, you know?"

"Yes, and now we don't know where he is, and he can't help us!"

"I didn't think he would actually go! I told you that!"

Felipe couldn't stand all that bickering, which was about to escalate into something else, as they were so anxious. He clapped his hands to get their attention, and then he pointed at Zorro with his palms up.

"Yes, Felipe, we are trying to help!" Don Alejandro shouted.

Felipe shook his head, and pointed at the masked man again.

"What? What do you want?" the old don yelled again, throwing a blood soaked cloth to the floor, and then pressed frantically on the wound with a clean one. "We need Diego here!"

Felipe puffed in frustration, then took a deep breath, and removed Zorro's mask.

ZZZZZ


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Taking the mask had been a bad move. Don Alejandro and Victoria were now speechless, so shocked they couldn't even close their mouths, which hung open while their brains tried to process the news: _Diego is… Zorro?!_ At least, they had stopped bickering, but on the other hand, they were not helping to stop the haemorrhage anymore, as they were frozen on the spot.

Right then, there was a noise of horse hooves arriving at the hacienda. Felipe ran to the window. It was late in the evening and it was getting dark. He panicked when he saw the alcalde and a large group of soldiers accompanying the doctor. He ran to the front door and shut it close, securing it with a long piece of timber across, as a bar. Then he ran back and signalled Don Alejandro and Victoria to help him drag Diego's body to the library, to the fireplace. They didn't understand, and they still didn't move until they heard the alcalde screaming.

"De la Vega! Open the door!"

"The alcalde!" Don Alejandro snapped out of the trance, and helped Felipe to take Diego's limp body down to the floor. "Where are we taking him? Wherever, I'll follow you! Victoria, clean all the blood on the floor as we go along, please. Quick!"

Victoria's brain finally re-booted, and she followed Don Alejandro's instructions, still so shocked she could not cry a single tear yet. She grabbed most of the rags Don Alejandro had prepared and the bowl with warm water they had ready to clean Zorro's wound. She quickly wiped off the table and then she followed them cleaning all the blood stains along the way, mechanically, as an emotionally empty shell.

When they reached the fireplace, Felipe actioned the switch and the panel flung open. Don Alejandro was bothered by the idea that secret passage had been there all the time, but he pushed it at the back of his mind while he helped Felipe to get Diego downstairs. There would be time for explanations later, much later. The alcalde was still shouting outside, threatening to bring the door down.

"I have to go upstairs and open the door. I… I…" Don Alejandro mumbled.

"Go!" Felipe said.

That didn't help. Don Alejandro looked at him wide-eyed, with his mind finally blowing up.

"You can speak? Since when?"

Felipe shook his head. No, he couldn't. But the stress had helped him greatly to articulate the odd word.

"Go!" he repeated.

Don Alejandro finally moved away, but he came back quickly to hand over his waistcoat and shirt, which were soaked in Diego's blood.

"Hide this."

Felipe nodded and closed the secret door behind him. He tampered with the mechanism, so nobody could open it from the fireplace if accidentally someone touched the switch. The soldiers would surely search the house to the last corner.

Don Alejandro walked to the entrance door like on a dream. There were more blood smears all over the floor close to the entrance, and some more that Victoria had missed. The house keeper was there, wiping them off in silence, with a frightened expression on her face, fearing the alcalde was going to bring down the door on top of her head with all that banging.

"Thank you, María," Don Alejandro said, helping her out with the rugs. María was dazed by the unusual appearance of the old don, shirtless and bleeding from a small wound in his shoulder.

"What… what happened, señor? Are you all right? Where does all this blood come from?"

"Yes, María, I'm all right. Don't worry. I'll explain later. Don't say anything when the soldiers come in, please. Now, go and burn this on the stove right now, before they see them," he said, handing her all the blood stained cloths and rugs. He was about to open the door when he spotted another blood stain. He wiped it off and looked right and left, indecisive, until he placed that cloth over his wound and opened the door, hoping the soldiers had trodden all over the blood stains outside and the alcalde had not seen them in the dark. He hadn't.

De Soto stormed in, and the same as the house keeper, he was mesmerized by the sight of a shirtless Alejandro.

"De la Vega, what's going on? What took you so long to open the door?"

"I was in my room, taking care of my wound while waiting for the doctor."

De Soto glanced at the blood stained cloth he was holding against his shoulder, unconvinced.

"Lancers! Search the house! Zorro must be here!" The soldiers spread all over the place. "Search every inch of this property until you find him!"

ZZZ

Felipe and Victoria dragged Diego to the small bed in the cave where he had been sleeping for the last two nights. Felipe cut Zorro's black shirt to remove it and checked the wounds. He had a large exit wound on the right side of his chest, still bleeding despite Don Alejandro's efforts to stop the haemorrhage. He knew that wound had to be cauterized, so he went to set a fire on the small forge where Diego prepared and shaped Toronado's horseshoes. Then, he found a thin rod and placed it over the burning coal. While waiting for the rod to be incandescent hot, he looked through the spy hole to see what was going on. Felipe needed the doctor as soon as possible, as he didn't feel capable to poke into Diego's chest with a burning rod, but it would be impossible to use the secret entrance as the alcalde was sitting in one of the armchairs at the library while the soldiers searched the house.

While Felipe did all that, Victoria stayed by Diego's side, feeling strangely empty, her mind trapped in a dense fog, still protected by the shock. She just could not believe it, and kept telling herself this was a bad dream. Until she looked at the cut on the left side of Diego's chest, that didn't looked as fresh as the gunshot. That wound had been stitched at some point, but the sutures had burst, and the large gash was open again. She touched that wound lightly, and then she looked at her blood stained finger as if it belonged to someone else. She vividly recalled Zorro's gasp when she had hugged him, pressing her cheek against his strong chest, right on that wound, on that comfort spot she loved so much, and then he had kissed her as if there was no tomorrow, insisting he was all right. But that man didn't exist. That man wasn't Zorro; it was Diego. That little detail got her finally out of the shock. The intense guilt and grief she felt was so overwhelming she fell on her knees, sobbing and howling out of control, shaking like an autumn leaf in high winds about to be blown away.

Now she understood why he had insisted to know if she could love a man like Diego, and why he'd said he didn't know who his real self was. Now it all made sense. And the saddest part was that she could love Diego, because she had always loved him, and now she would probably lose both. How could she never realize before it was him all along? She had to fight the urge to bang her head repeatedly on a wall to get that uncomfortable guilt and embarrassment out of it.

ZZZ

Doctor Hernández followed Don Alejandro to his room. When he inspected his wound, he was surprised as it didn't look that bad at all to require his assistance.

"What happened, Don Alejandro? That wound only needs cleaning. It will heal all right without stitches."

The doctor looked a bit cross to have to ride all the way there unnecessarily. He wiped the wound clean, and stood up to leave the room.

"Doctor, don't go, please. Diego has been shot; that's why I called you." Don Alejandro hesitated for a moment before he continued. "He is Zorro, and the alcalde is looking for him. That's why he is escorting you, I guess, so you can't treat him."

"What? Your son is Zorro? Well, I am surprised he is Zorro, but not too much. I always suspected Diego could be the one," the doctor said.

"Did you, really? I didn't know, and I never suspected it."

"Didn't you?"

Don Alejandro shook his head slowly, the sorrow eroding him inside. No, he had never seriously considered that possibility. Otherwise, things would have been different. Really different.

"How bad is it?"

"Bad. He was hit on the back. At least you don't need to find the bullet, which has exited through his chest, but the wound is bleeding a lot. I couldn't stop it. Please don't go; you have to help him. Stay around the house. Hopefully, Felipe can find you somehow."

"Yes, I'll see him, of course. Where is he?"

"Unfortunately, I don't know where the other entrance to his hiding place is. There is a secret passage from the fireplace, but the alcalde is sitting right next to it, so you can't use it, and I can't remember where it ends. Somewhere at the back of the property, about half a mile away. If you come out undetected through this window, and walk to the back, hopefully Felipe can come and meet you, and lead you to my son."

"All right. Please, help me to climb out through the window. I'm not a young man anymore."

Don Alejandro helped the doctor through the window frame, and held him while he dropped to the soft ground below.

"Please, avoid the soldiers. They are looking for him."

The doctor nodded and walked away in the darkness toward the back of the house. A few steps on, he bumped into Sergeant Mendoza, who was searching in that area.

"Doctor, what are you doing here?" he asked, surprised. Then he added, whispering: "Are you going to help Zorro?"

The doctor nodded, serious.

"Go, then. Save him. I won't say anything."

"Really?"

"Zorro is my friend. Please, save him, but come back as fast as you can. The alcalde may grow impatient otherwise."

"I don't know where he is, nor does Don Alejandro. He is hiding somewhere around here, but we don't know exactly where."

"Find out where he is. I'll stay here, so no other soldiers come this way."

"Thank you, Sergeant. You are a good man."

ZZZ

Felipe grabbed the hot rod carefully, holding it with a thick glove. He approached Diego, but his hand was shaking so much he felt incapable to fit that bar into the wound. In the end, he left the rod on the forge again, and had a look through the spy hole one more time. The alcalde was still at the library. Felipe signalled to Victoria, who was still crying on the floor, but she didn't understand him. He gestured a "never mind" and then walked to the back of the cave and through the passage to get outside. Then he approached the hacienda, looking for the doctor. He walked close to Don Alejandro's window, and hid behind the bushes when he saw Mendoza nearby. When the doctor jumped out of the window, Felipe heard the sergeant's words. He let out a sigh of relief, and came out of the bushes to lead Doctor Hernández to Diego.

"Felipe, there you are! Where is Zorro?" the doctor asked. The youngster took his sleeve and urged the doctor to follow him into the darkness. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said to Mendoza.

"I'll be here. Hurry up!"

ZZZ

De Soto waited patiently at the library while the doctor treated Don Alejandro. The soldiers had finished searching the house, and while some had a look at the barn and the other buildings, the rest had surrounded the house, guarding it in case Zorro came to get help. Although he may already had some help, as Victoria and Felipe had disappeared.

The alcalde was confident this time he could apprehend the masked outlaw, and even there was a chance he would die in his hiding place, unattended, and then he would cease to be a pain in his backside. De Soto laughed at that idea, initially. But then, he had the disturbing feeling of his conscience telling him that man, whoever he was, didn't deserve that kind of dead. For a moment he felt bad because he was trying to prevent an injured person to get medical treatment. But he pushed that thought to the back of his mind, telling himself Zorro was a criminal.

He stood up and paced up and down the library, stopping to look at the title of the books on the shelves.

 _Doctor, what's taking you so long to treat that scratch?_

ZZZ

Diego was semiconscious now, agitated, gasping for air and shaking his head on the pillow, right at the worse possible moment because the doctor needed him to be still to cauterize the wound. He looked extremely pale and febrile, although his skin was clammy and cold instead of hot. Victoria was by his side, holding his right hand, and he grasped at hers tightly.

"Felipe, Victoria. I need you to hold him still. It won't be pleasant, but I really need to do this, and he needs to be still. Can you do that?"

The doctor was waiting with the hot rod already in his hand, waiting for their response. They nodded, holding Diego's arms and legs down as they could, bracing themselves for what was about to happen.

Doctor Hernández applied the hot rod to the wound, digging inside as deep as he could to cauterize the bleeding blood vessels in Diego's lungs. His response was immediate: he cried out and woke up with the pain, trying to get away from it. Felipe held him down with his whole body, leaning over his chest while covering his mouth with one hand to muffle the cry. Fortunately for Diego, the unbearable pain made him pass out again quite quickly, and he relaxed his body letting the doctor finish the job. Victoria fought the intense nausea she felt with the smell of burning flesh, and looked away clenching her jaw and closing her eyes.

When the doctor had finished with the exit wound, they turned Diego's body on his side, and the doctor also cauterized the entry wound at his back, applying honey to both ends. Then, he listened to Diego's chest and shook his head, worried.

"He's got too much fluid sitting around the lungs. He can't breathe. I need to drain some fluid out."

He collected a large metallic syringe from his bag, with a long needled attached to the end. When Victoria saw the doctor draining blood from Diego's back, she could not stand it anymore and fainted on the floor.

"That's as much as I can do tonight, Felipe. I have to go now, or the alcalde will grow suspicious. Try to make him drink as much bark infusion as you can, and keep him propped upright so he can breathe a bit better." He helped the youngster to do this, placing some pillows and blankets at Diego's back. "He may have a chance to survive now that we have stopped the haemorrhage, but he has lost a lot of blood already. I'll be back when I can, when the alcalde is gone."

Felipe pointed at Victoria's floppy body lying on the floor.

"She'll be fine. She just fainted. Ignore her, she'll wake up soon. I have to go. Take me back to the hacienda, please. I don't think I can find my way in the dark."

They left the cave quickly. When they arrived at the hacienda, Mendoza was on edge, as the doctor had taken too long.

"How is he? Is he going to be all right?"

"I don't know, Sergeant. He has lost a lot of blood. I should have seen him sooner for a better chance. It may be too late." The doctor tried to climb up Don Alejandro's window but he was struggling.

"Let me help you," Mendoza said. He pushed the doctor up, worrying about what would happen if they were discovered. He would probably be court-martialled and punished for treason. Fortunately, nothing happened, and the sergeant breathed a sigh of relief when the doctor was safely back in Don Alejandro's room.

ZZZ

"How is he? How bad is it? Don't lie, please. Tell me as it is," Don Alejandro begged.

"I had to cauterize the whole wound, as it was bleeding too much. He had lost a lot of blood; I guess a large blood vessel was damaged in there. And I had to drain quite a lot of blood and fluid from his lung so he can breathe. He is in a bad shape, Don Alejandro, sorry. The next few hours would be critical, but I can't stay here with him."

Don Alejandro nodded, sad, accepting the bad news as well as he could.

"Thank you, Doctor. I really appreciate the effort you made and the risk you took to see him."

"Don't despair, Don Alejandro. There is still a chance he can make it. He is a strong man." They were about to leave the room when the doctor said: "Let me place your arm on a sling, so your wound looks more serious." He did that quickly, and then they walked back to the library.

"What took you so long? That is a simple, tiny, insignificant wound he has there. It should take you no more than five minutes to treat it," the alcalde said when they walked in.

"It was more complicated than that. There was quite a lot of material embedded in the tissues I had to clean carefully to avoid infection. Yes, it took me much longer than what I had anticipated at first. Now, if you excuse me, I have to go to see another patient. Señora González was on the first stage of labour more than four hours ago. I should check on her again." That was true, but he also wanted to get away to be able to come back later, and try to sneak at the back again.

"I cannot allow you to be out on your own tonight. You may be tempted to help Zorro, and this is my best chance to find him. You'll be escorted by a few lancers. Sepúlveda!" he called.

"Why not Sergeant Mendoza?" the doctor asked, hopeful.

"That sentimental fool? Don't be ridiculous, Doctor. He may let you go to help Zorro," the alcalde sniggered.

"Sí, Alcalde?" the corporal said, coming into the library.

"Corporal Sepúlveda, get three more lancers and follow the doctor wherever he goes tonight. If he tries to help Zorro, arrest them both. Is that clear?"

"Sí, mi Alcalde." He followed the doctor to the entrance door, recruiting some lancers along the way, while Don Alejandro sank in one of the armchairs at the library, exhausted physically and mentally. De Soto sat down in front of him.

"I'll stay here with you. As long as it takes until Zorro appears."

Don Alejandro looked at him, resentful, because until he could get rid of the alcalde he would not be able to check on Diego, and by the time he could finally do it, it might be too late.

ZZZZZ

 **A.N – For this chapter, I know I included some modern terms, like Victoria's brain re-boot. I know, it is a computer term, but that is exactly how I picture her, re-starting like a shut-down computer, LOL. Excuse me for that.**

 **For popular demand, I tried to write this chapter as fast as I could, and I am posting it fresh from the oven, so I guess it will be full of typos. Sorry, I'll correct them later.**

 **Thank you very much for all the kind reviews. I am thrilled you are enjoying this story despite the maiming. Please, keep reviewing!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Victoria woke up shortly after the doctor and Felipe had left the cave. Doctor Hernández was right: she had only fainted at the sight of the needle, and she was fine. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking. She was lying on the floor beside Diego's bed, and the first thing she saw was a small ball of crunched paper that was under the bed. Not thinking much about it, she stretched her arm and grabbed it. That kind of paper reminded her of something, but she wasn't sure of what. Then, she pulled herself up slowly, and used the edge of the bed to balance herself up. She stood by the bed and checked on Diego, who was again unconscious, lying very still, not moving or mumbling incoherent words as before. She touched his clammy, pale face, and stroked it while talking to him softly.

"Oh, Diego. Why did you never tell me you were Zorro? You could have told me the other day at the tavern. It was the perfect opportunity to do so. Or so many times before. Things would have been so different if you had told me it was you from the beginning. Now I feel like the biggest fool on Earth. Sorry, _mi amor_ , I should have known. I should have realized it was you." She stroked his fringe back, lovingly. "Were you really so afraid of my reaction? Am I that scary to you?" She looked at his handsome face, as if she was waiting for an answer. But, of course, she was not going to get any answers right then. Not until Diego recovered. If he ever did.

That thought brought tears to her eyes again. She wiped them off, and doing so she rubbed her face with that crunched ball of paper she was still holding in her left hand. She smoothed it out, straightening the wrinkled piece of paper over the bed. When she read the heading, her heart skipped a bit.

 _"Dear Victoria,"_ it said, in Diego's writing, which this time wasn't as neat and tidy as usual, not following a straight line along the paper. She smiled. As she wanted answers, maybe she could get some after all.

 _"There is something I have meant to tell you for a long time, but I have never found the appropriate moment or the courage to do so. After all, that should be no surprise to you, as I am the pueblo's coward."_

 _No, you are not_ , she thought then. She sighed and continued reading.

 _"Actually, there are two things I want to tell you. One is quite simple: I love you. I always have and I always will. The second one is more complicated, and I am afraid you will not accept this too easily: I am Zorro. Please, don't get mad. I…"_

And that was all. The letter had been obviously scrunched and discarded. The paper had a stain at the bottom. She smelled it and shook her head. As a tavern owner, she could recognize it easily. It was a wine stain.

 _Were you drunk when you wrote this, Diego? You don't usually drink._

If he was drank, that would explain his shoddy writing, and the impulsiveness to destroy his own work, not satisfied with the results.

She realized it was the same kind of paper as that letter Diego had written to his father, with the same kind of careless writing. That letter that was full of lies, as he had no intention to travel to Spain or join the army. Or, had he? No, probably he wasn't lying then. Drunken people usually talked from the heart, sometimes in an embarrassingly honest way. And what about this other letter for her? He wasn't lying in that one either; he was terrified to let her know who was under the mask. But, when did he write it? Because he wasn't drunk when he came to the tavern that night, when he had already left the hacienda as Diego. However, after their encounter there, he probably felt like drinking. She did too, admittedly, because she took a couple of glasses to sooth her nerves before she went to bed that night. Remembering that, she started crying again.

"Oh, please, Diego, don't die! We have to talk. There are so many things I need to tell you, so many things to apologize for." Recalling all the times she had made fun of Diego, with hurtful comments comparing him to Zorro, no wonder that poor man was so messed up and afraid to tell her who he was.

As if she wasn't already feeling like a fool, she felt even worse right then.

ZZZ

His son, that same one he had called a _coward_ only three days ago, had saved his life and was Zorro. Sitting in his armchair at the library, tormented by the sorrow caused by such a revelation, Don Alejandro's eyes were drawn to the same object once and again. He was looking at the pistol sticking out in De Soto's belt. He knew it would be a difficult task not to give in to the temptation to end his anguish quickly if Diego died from his injuries. Actually, in his agitated state, it was already difficult to restrain his shaky hand from reaching up to the alcalde's pistol way too soon. The tension of waiting there quietly, while not knowing his son's fate, nor being able to help him, was too much to bear. Sadly for him, ending his misery right then by blowing his own brains out was not an outrageous idea. For a while, he indulged himself with the mental picture of that macabre fantasy, wondering _"what if I was brave enough to grab De Soto's pistol?"_

The only thought that eventually brought back the old man's will to carry on living was Felipe. He felt guilty for contemplating such an easy option to avoid the pain, the coward's way, while Felipe would be left alone in the world for the second time in his short life. How devastating and unfair for him would be to lose both of them at the same time.

"I am glad Diego left the hacienda a few days ago. Otherwise, I would have to wonder where he is right now, and even consider the ludicrous idea that he could be Zorro," De Soto said, sniggering at the mere thought of that possibility, unaware of Don Alejandro's mental reverie.

Don Alejandro lifted his eyes from the pistol to his owner's face, fuming. He was about to reply to that insult, when he realized first-hand how difficult Diego's life had been, enduring that kind of hurtful remark day after day. And the worse ones were always coming from his own father and the woman he loved, of all people. No wonder in the end his son had snapped when he had called him a coward. Who would have been able to stand that, under the circumstances? When he left the hacienda that day to follow Felipe, he was surprised by the loud noise the front door had made when Diego had slammed it shut with all his mighty frustration. Now he understood his words: _"Father, you don't know the whole situation!"_

He could not refrain himself from sobbing uncontrollably then, covering his face with both hands in shame, while De Soto looked at him, baffled by his reaction.

ZZZ

When Felipe came back to the cave he found Victoria awake and well, as the doctor had said she would be. She was rummaging in the bin, avidly collecting scrunched pieces of paper from it.

 _"How is he?"_ he signed.

"The same. He hasn't moved at all."

She placed the balls on the table, and started to smooth them, placing them side by side to read them all. She was really excited to find so many of them in the bin, by chance. All together, they could form a coherent message for her.

 _"What are you doing?"_ he signed. Felipe didn't know anything about the letters.

"Diego wrote these letters for me, but he never sent them."

 _"If he never sent them, maybe you are not meant to read them."_

"What? I didn't get that. Can you say that again?"

Felipe tried for the second time, with easier signing. He covered the letters with his left hand, then pointed to her eyes and then at the letters, and shook his head.

"What do you mean? Are you saying that I can't read them? They are for me! Look, Felipe, I need answers right now. I need to know what he was thinking and why he never told me his secret. He can't talk to me right now, so the best, closest thing I have to his voice are those letters. Let me read them, please."

She looked so desperate Felipe had to agree with her. What damage could that make now? She needed to know, and he wasn't keen to be the one explaining things, anyway. He left the letters on the table and moved away to check on Diego. She was right; he hadn't moved an inch. He was still having trouble breathing, but he was managing at the moment. Felipe propped him up a bit more, and then he walked upstairs to look through the spy hole one more time.

The alcalde was still at the library. He was looking at Don Alejandro, with a half-concerned, half-smile on his face. The old don, sitting opposite to him, was crying a river in the unmanliest manner ever, with his emotions overflowing.

ZZZ

 _Who would have thought this tough, old man could be so sentimental?_ De Soto thought. After an uncomfortable minute, the old don started to calm down a bit. The alcalde cleared his throat.

"Don Alejandro…"

"I'm sorry. I miss my son so much. We had a row, and…" Don Alejandro tried to justify himself that way, but he couldn't finish his explanation for his odd behaviour, with his throat closing up. He stood up to get a glass of water from the jar at the side table, and tried to dissolve that tight knot that didn't let him talk.

"Yes, I know. Sergeant Mendoza told me what happened."

"I don't know where he is. And I feel really bad about it."

"Well, this is Diego we are talking about, not Zorro! Don't worry, he'll come back soon. What else is he going to do? Disappear for ever? You are acting as if his life is hanging by a thread," De Soto said, laughing.

The alcalde was distracted looking at the fireplace at that moment, and he didn't catch Don Alejandro's glance of pure hatred.

ZZZ

 _"Dear Victoria,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well. As you know, I had an argument with my father about my lack of courage. I had to leave the house and I don't know when I will return. I regret many things in my life, but the one thing I regret the most was to never have the courage to let you know I love you. Yes, Victoria, I love you. As me, Diego, and also as Zorro."_

 _"Dear Victoria,_

 _I have a very important thing to tell you, but I don't know how to. When I am with you, I can never be myself, and I can never muster the courage to let you know my secret: I am Zorro."_

 _"Dear Victoria,_

 _If you had the chance to speak to my father, you may already know I am leaving California. I am sorry I didn't have the time to say goodbye in person, but as the coward that I am, I didn't dare. There are so many things I need to tell you and I don't know how to. I have lied to you for so long I feel really sorry, and I am afraid you will be too angry with me when you finally find out. I kept this secret from you to protect you, but you probably won't see it that way. Rest assured, I love you too much to willingly cause you any harm. I am sorry if I did. My big secret is"_

 _"Dearest Victoria, mi amor,_

 _I love you, but I am afraid I can't live with or without you. I need you here, right now because"_

 _"Dear Victoria…"_

Victoria looked at all the wrinkled letters on the table. She had ten of them in total. They were all very similar on the contents, and all had only a few lines written before they were discarded. She thought she could actually file them in a sequence as Diego's drunkenness progressed the night he wrote them. The writing got worse, as well as the form, jumping straight to his most important, fundamental, and primal thought; his only truth: _"Dear Victoria, I love you."_

"Why you didn't tell me, you fool? Because I love you too! We could have been together for three years now, at least! I could have three children already!" Her infamous temper finally exploded and she expressed out loud what she was thinking, without the fear Felipe could hear her from the distance, as she had not registered the fact he had spoken that night.

"Come on, Diego! You have to wake up so I can tell you, so you can hear it from my lips: I - LOVE - YOU."

 _Yes. You have to recover, you know? Because I don't want to be the one doing all the explanations for you. This is not fair. You better wake up right now!_ Felipe thought.

ZZZZZ


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

It was two in the morning when De Soto decided Zorro wasn't coming. Don Alejandro was still awake, sitting in his armchair at the library, lost in thought with a somber, troubled face, refusing to retire to bed until the alcalde was gone. _"I can't rest if I know you are still in my house, Alcalde. If you don't mind, I'll wait here until you get off my face,"_ he had said defiantly when De Soto had suggested he should go to bed and rest his wound.

"Well, I don't think Zorro is going to show up tonight," De Soto said, standing up, fed up of waiting. "I'll go back to the garrison now. A couple of lancers will stay, nonetheless, just in case. Mendoza!"

Sergeant Mendoza was dozing off in the parlor, leaning against a wall, and jumped up when he heard his name, startled. He skipped along and reached the library in a few steps.

"Sí, mi Alcalde?"

"Mendoza, you and private Sánchez will stay here until the morning. Don't fall asleep. I need you awake and alert in case Zorro shows up. Understood?"

"Sí, mi Alcalde. On full alert."

He made a funny face when he supressed an incoming yawn. De Soto looked at the sleepy soldier with contempt, and then he threatened him, with his menacing index finger waving only a couple of inches away from Mendoza's drowsy face.

"If I find out you fell asleep tonight you'll be on latrine duty for a year, Sergeant," De Soto growled. Mendoza snapped up at attention, sharply, pretending to be fully awake.

"Sí, mi Alcalde!"

"That's better. Lancers! Vámonos! I'll be back in the morning."

The alcalde and the remaining lancers left the hacienda. Mendoza sighed, relieved.

"Thank God he's gone. That man gets on my nerves," Don Alejandro said, also relieved. "Sergeant, you can rest on one of the divans in the parlor, and so can private Sánchez. I won't tell anyone. I am going to bed myself. Good night."

"That would be lovely, Don Alejandro, but you heard the alcalde. We'll take a seat, thank you, but we'll stay awake, vigilant and sharp," Mendoza said puffing up his chest proudly, stretching his neck. "Good night."

The old don went to his room and sat on his bed, fidgeting. _Just a little bit more and then I can check on Diego,_ he thought. The uncertainty of not knowing Diego's fate was killing him. He patiently waited another twenty minutes. When he came back to check on the soldiers they were snoring soundly in the parlor, reclined on the divans. Don Alejandro walked then to the library and knocked on the panel at the fireplace.

"Felipe." It was weird to call for the boy who up until know he thought was deaf and mute. "Felipe, open the door, please." After a while, the panel moved inwards. Don Alejandro walked quickly through the gap, bumping onto the youngster. "How is he? Is he all right? Is he still alive?" Felipe nodded and pointed at the bottom of the stairs. Then, he closed the panel shut while Don Alejandro ran downstairs.

"Diego! Son, how are you?" he asked when he finally got to his side, after a few hours wasted facing the alcalde. Of course, Diego didn't answer. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness, alternating a comatose state with periods of restless sleep, but not really waking up. The brief moments when he nearly did, for a few seconds at a time, they had tried to make him drink the bark infusion, but he hardly took a few sips, looking disconcerted, as if he didn't recognize them.

"How is he? Has he woken up? Has he talked to you?" he asked Victoria.

"No, Don Alejandro. He hasn't woken up properly yet. We are trying to make him drink, as the doctor said, but he is not taking much. I think he may be running a temperature now, and he is still gasping for air," Victoria said. "I don't think he could talk even if he wanted to, the way he is breathing."

Don Alejandro touched his son's forehead. It was hot. Really hot. "Yes, he is running a temperature. He is burning up."

Victoria touched him as well, and gasped. "That's much worse than when I checked him only half an hour ago!"

"Quick, let's get some cold compresses. Fever is not going to help his breathing."

They covered him with wet, cold towels, and Felipe applied spirit to his palms and soles, hoping to lower his temperature. Don Alejandro was mesmerized at Felipe's attitude, and how efficiently he seemed to be coping with the situation, as if he was in command at his young age.

"Felipe, how long have you been helping him for?"

Felipe signed, but Don Alejandro didn't understand him. The youngster tried again.

"I think he is saying _"from the beginning."_ Aren't you?" Victoria said.

Felipe nodded, uncomfortable. He knew he was about to be grilled with all kind of questions about Diego and Zorro, and he didn't want to be the one who had to answer them.

"Why did he tell you, but he didn't tell us?" Don Alejandro asked. Felipe shrugged his shoulders. "Why he couldn't trust us?"

Felipe pointed at Diego, and to his lips. Then he pointed at his and shook his head.

"Do you mean he can tell me when he is awake, because you are not going to?"

Felipe nodded, lowering his face in shame. Yes, he didn't want to. Besides, as they were not as good as Diego understanding his signs, that kind of conversation would take a long time.

"Why you didn't tell me you can hear? And speak. I would have been so happy for you. What were you afraid of?"

"Felipe! You are not deaf? Or mute?" Victoria said, also shocked.

Felipe looked even more nervous and uncomfortable now, willing to be able to disappear. In the end, he signed: _"I can't speak. Only the odd word. And I never told you I could hear because pretending to be deaf was more useful to Zorro, as I could spy what other people were saying when they thought no one else could hear them."_

"Even me?"

 _"No, not you. We were going to tell you. Actually Diego was thinking on telling you everything, to both of you, but he didn't know when or how."_

Felipe was saved from the interrogation when Diego moved his head, agitated, displacing the wet towels on his forehead, delirious.

"Father, watch out!" he said with a weak, high pitched, shaky and frightened voice.

"Diego, calm down. I'm all right. I am here with you." Don Alejandro took Diego's hand and squeezed it gently. "Please, wake up, Son. Wake up."

Diego opened his eyes slowly, and tried to focus on the face in front of him.

"Run! Get off the way!" he said then, panicking. He tried to sit up, but Don Alejandro stopped him, accidentally pressing with his palm of Diego's wound, on his chest. He cried in pain and his head fell back on the pillows, unconscious again.

"Jesus! Sorry, Diego. I'm so sorry, Son." He covered his face with his hands in despair. "This is my entire fault. If you hadn't tried to save me, you would not be lying in here, dying." He sobbed like a lost child again, while Felipe tried to give the old man some comfort by rubbing his shoulders gently. Victoria was speechless, with a tight knot in her throat, fighting back some fresh tears unsuccessfully.

ZZZ

Doctor Hernández went to bed late. He remembered he wanted to check on another patient that evening, but he had run out of time. The patient was Santiago Ramírez, a farmer who was suffering from pneumonia. He considered a late night visit, but the presence of the soldiers following him around bothered him, as it was so irritating, so he decided he would visit the sick man the next day if the soldiers would leave him alone. And afterwards, he would check on Diego as well.

In the morning, De Soto decided it wasn't necessary to have the soldiers following doctor Hernández anymore. Unfortunately, when the doctor arrived on his own at Santiago's farm, it was too late. The farmer was dead, stiff on his bed, and it looked like he had died a few hours ago.

Doctor Hernández blamed himself initially, but then he realized if the pneumonia was so advanced he would probably have not been able to save him, no matter what.

Looking at the dead man, he suddenly became aware of the fact that man shared some physical features with Diego, although they didn't look anything alike. An outrageous idea started to take form in his mind. That man had no family and was a loner, going for days or even weeks without contact with anyone, and he had dark hair and blue eyes, and was thin and quite tall like Diego. The doctor didn't touch anything; he went outside again and got on his horse, riding to the hacienda De la Vega at a fast pace.

When he arrived there, the soldiers were gone. Don Alejandro was waiting for him, looking exhausted by the lack of sleep and the worry. He took him to the library, where he activated a concealed switch to open a secret panel at the fireplace. The doctor walked through the gap, and the old don closed the door behind him, pointing at the stairs with his left hand.

"He is downstairs. That's the entrance to the cave where you helped him last night."

The doctor walked downstairs and approached the injured man on the bed. He immediately realized his chest was full with fluid again for the way he was doing rattling noises every time he took some air.

"How is he? Has he woken up?"

"No. Only briefly. He tried to sit up, but unfortunately Don Alejandro pressed on his chest to stop him and he fell unconscious again," Victoria said.

"Sorry, that was a dumb move," Don Alejandro said, joining them, ashamed.

"Don't worry. It would have been worse if he had fallen off the bed. You did well, trying to prevent him from standing up. Did he drink much fluid?"

"Not much. He is not swallowing it, and we were afraid he would get the bark infusion into his lungs," Victoria said, apologetic.

"No, we don't want that. He is already struggling with all that fluid in there. He doesn't need you to pour any more into his lungs. I need to drain some fluid again, like I did last night," he said, producing the long, thick needle and the syringe from his bag. "Victoria, I think it would be better if you step back and don't look. I don't want you to faint again."

"No, I'll be all right, doctor. I know what to expect this time," Victoria said, embarrassed, trying to be brave.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I can hold the candle light close to you, so you can see better," she offered, trying to be helpful.

"Thank you. All right. Let's get him on his side, like before." They moved Diego's body and left him resting onto his right flank, and the doctor inserted the needle on the dependant aspect on his back, into the pleural space. He drained a significant amount of sanguineous fluid, and Diego's respiration became less noisy immediately. Victoria held the candle over the area with a shaky hand, but she didn't faint this time. Then, the doctor cleaned and sutured the laceration on the left side of Diego's chest, closing the gap for the second time.

"I'll prepare an herbal mixture with diuretics to drain more fluid from his lungs, and also painkillers. It is important that he drinks it, so try to constantly give him a spoon at a time, if you have to."

Felipe nodded, pointing at his chest, assuming the responsibility to do it.

"Now, Don Alejandro, I have to tell you something. I found Santiago Ramírez dead on his bed this morning. Looking at him, I thought it was striking how similar he and Diego would look with a black mask on."

"Santiago Ramírez? The farmer?" Victoria said, surprised. "He doesn't look like Diego at all."

"No, they don't look anything alike without a mask, but think about it: they both have blue eyes, a moustache, and black hair, and they are both quite tall."

"Doctor, what are you trying to say?" Don Alejandro asked, unsure.

"I think we could dress him in Zorro's clothes and convince the alcalde Santiago was Zorro, and now he is dead. That way, Diego would be out of danger, at least from the alcalde."

"That is the craziest idea I've ever heard. I don't think it would work. No way."

"I think it may," Victoria said, more positive. "But I will need to pretend I am devastated by the loss, and that will be difficult. And then, when Diego recovers, we could get married, and…" she blushed red like a poppy then. "I mean, if he wants to marry me…"

"Of course he will, dear, don't worry. Why wouldn't he?" Don Alejandro said, sympathetic. He would love to see them married.

"Don Alejandro, I can't supply a dead body that would fit Zorro's description whenever I want to. This is a one and only, single opportunity. Either we go for it as soon as possible, or we don't. Someone else can discover the cadaver if we don't hurry up."

"Give me a moment."

Don Alejandro was quite shocked by the doctor's proposition, but he reckoned it was a golden opportunity to help Diego to get rid of his virtual prison, the one he had created for himself when he became Zorro. Diego should be allowed to be himself. But, what would his son think about this? Would he be cross if they destroyed what he had worked for so hard during the last three years? Probably, but they could deal with that grievance and his possible anger later.

On the other hand, Don Alejandro was so proud of his son now, he would like to be able to announce publicly Zorro's identity when the circumstances in the pueblo had changed, so everybody would be in awe and proud of Diego; a nice touch to repay him for his sacrifice. However, if Zorro was unmasked now and Diego died over the next few days, it would not be possible to show the whole pueblo he was a hero and not the chicken they all believed he was, and he would remain a coward in their minds. If they killed off the dream of Zorro this way, there would be no coming back, and if Diego died, nobody would know his true identity, ever.

Don Alejandro didn't want to think about that, so he pushed the chance of Diego dying from his injuries to the back of his mind. Diego was a survivor, and he was going to make it. This had to be done. Zorro had to die if Diego could ever have a chance at happiness.

"Yes, let's do this, Doctor. Zorro has to die for my son to be released. He could never be a normal person otherwise; never have a family, never settle down. It is not fair. Zorro has to go."

"All right. Come on. Let's get Zorro's clothes and weapons. Hurry up; we have to get there as soon as possible."

Don Alejandro collected the clothes from the rack, including the cape, the hat and the mask, and also the trousers and boots Felipe took off when Zorro was transferred to the cave, but the shirt was missing. Felipe had torn the black shirt when he removed it to treat the gunshot, and the other one still had a slash at the front, that had not been mended.

"Felipe, do you have any more shirts? I need one that is not damaged." Felipe nodded, and produced an older one from the chest where they kept some spares. Don Alejandro grabbed Zorro's weapons: the whip, the rope and the dagger. Then he put everything on a bag and seized the sword. Felipe looked at him with a sad, upset face. Don Alejandro stopped to look at the sabre, holding it with both hands, uneasy. "This sword is very special to him, isn't it?" Felipe nodded, nearly sobbing, with his lower lip trembling. "All right. He can keep it. I can't take everything off him like this. The same goes for Toronado. He stays."

"I don't know if we will convince the alcalde if the sword and the horse are not there."

"Yes, we will. The horse ran away and Zorro lost the sword on the way home after he was injured. Easy. Come on, let's go." He passed by Felipe and handed him the sword, and the young man hugged it as if it was a precious, live being, while shedding a lonely tear. If Diego died he would keep his sword, forever.

ZZZ

"How are we going to get him dressed? He's too stiff!" Don Alejandro complained.

Santiago Ramírez had been dead for at least 10 hours now, and his body was showing _rigor mortis_ at full swing. The stiff, dead man lied in bed on his back, with his blue eyes wide open and his corneas already drying out.

"Let's get the trousers on first. That should be easier." They moved the body with apprehension, replacing his trousers with the black ones. Then, Doctor Hernández ripped the dead man's shirt apart and took it off. "At least we can leave the black shirt half way on only." They managed to push his arm into one of the sleeves, with great difficulty.

"Now we have to shoot him," the doctor said.

"What? That's gross. I can't shoot a dead body!"

"We have to convince the alcalde Santiago was Zorro. And Zorro was shot, and De Soto knows it. Zorro could not die of pneumonia; he died of a gunshot."

"You are right. But, a dead body won't bleed that much, don't you think?"

"No, you are right. We will need to get some blood to spread it on the bed. One of the chickens or the lambs out there in the corral would do." Doctor Hernández produced a gun from his bag. "There, you do it. I am sure you are a much better shot than I am. Hit the shirt too if you can, don't forget, at the back and the front." Then, he moved the body to a lateral position, on his side, so the bullet could go through his chest.

Don Alejandro mumbled a short prayer and made the sign of the cross on himself, and then aimed at the dead man's back, with a shaky hand. He fired the gun, and the bullet went through the chest, hitting the opposite wall.

"Good. It wasn't that difficult, was it?" the doctor said, taking the gun off Don Alejandro's hand. The old don was dazed by his action, numbed to move. He had just shot a _dead_ body. The doctor removed the bullet from the wall while the old don recovered from what he believed was a despicable action.

"Now, get one of the animals in the corral while I beat the wound. A real one should look a little bit more bruised. I know De Soto is not a forensic expert, but still, he may realize this doesn't look right otherwise."

Don Alejandro was taken aback when he saw the doctor hitting the dead body with a baton, trying to create some contusions and bruises around the wound entry and exit points.

 _We are crazy. This is not right._ He shook his head and went to the corral with a knife in his hand. _And now what? Kill a lamb?_ He waited there, hesitant. He really didn't want to do that right then. He felt sick.

"What's taking you so long? We need that blood now," the doctor said, coming out to the corral after a few minutes. Looking at Don Alejandro he realized the old don was quite affected by the whole situation, and wasn't up to the job in hand. "All right, I'll do it. You hold the bucket."

Doctor Hernández grabbed one of the young lambs that ran free in the corral, which let out a distressed, pathetic baa.

"I'm sorry, little one. It has to be done. Someone else would have done the same to you in a few weeks, anyway, and you'll be more useful this way." The doctor took the knife Don Alejandro was holding, and with a fast move he cut its jugular, holding the little wriggling animal from its hind legs and head to drain its blood in a bucket. When he had finished and the little lamb was limp, dying from the sudden blood loss, he took the bucket to pour its contents over the gunshot wound at both ends. He spread most of it over the bed, and also smeared the floor, a portion of the wall, and the entrance porch. Don Alejandro had to admit the overall effect was quite similar to what had happened when Diego arrived at the hacienda.

"Yes, Don Alejandro. A little bit of blood always goes a long way. It always looks more than it actually is." The doctor came out again to rinse the bucket in the trough, and poured the blood stained water in the heap of manure. "Now, leave Zorro's weapons in the room, and we can go."

They left the hat and the mask lying on the floor, in the position they would lie if someone had carelessly tossed them to the floor, the same as the weapons.

"Now, go back to the hacienda. Take the lamb with you, and the torn shirt. I'll go back to the pueblo. I'll wait a couple of hours before I tell the soldiers, so all the blood would be dry by then."

Don Alejandro didn't move.

"Come on, Don Alejandro. You did well. It had to be done. Go home now."

Don Alejandro finally reacted. He carefully picked up the lifeless body of that little lamb, wrapped it in the ripped shirt, put it in the bag that had contained Zorro's effects, and then mounted up Dulcinea.

"Are you checking on Diego later on, doctor?"

"Yes. As soon as I can, don't worry. Keep trying to cool him down, and make him take some fluids. I'll see you later." Doctor Hernández spurred his horse and galloped away, back to the pueblo.

Don Alejandro sighed, and headed back to the hacienda, carrying the bag with the little lamb in front of the saddle. That mental picture of him shooting a dead body would haunt him forever.

ZZZ

De Soto could not believe it. His suspicions were correct. Zorro was injured at the ambush, badly, and now he was dead. Seeing the man he had been so determined to bring to justice and execution dead on his bed didn't bring the alcalde any joy. On the contrary, knowing that man had died slowly, bleeding to death from his injuries, unattended, was causing him an uncomfortable uneasiness and an inconvenient sense of guilt, as he had prevented the doctor from seeing Zorro on time to save him. The ultimate result would have been the same, anyway, as Santiago Ramírez would have been brought to justice and a more than likely execution if he had survived, but it wasn't the same. De Soto felt responsible for Zorro's death somehow, and he didn't like it.

The room looked like an abattoir; there was blood all over the place. It looked like Santiago had been shot in the back through the chest, damaging the lungs badly, and he had been unable to stop the haemorrhage on his own.

De Soto looked at the lifeless, dry, blue eyes of the deceased. That was Zorro. How uncanny for that quiet, introvert farmer, to have played the role of Zorro. De Soto would have never suspected him to be the one in a million years. But he was quite tall, he had dark hair and a moustache, and now that he could look at them so close, the exact same blue eyes. De Soto grabbed the black mask from the floor, and placed it over Santiago's face. Yes, that was Zorro. No doubt about it. When he did that, Sergeant Mendoza, by his side, could not hold it together any longer, and broke down in tears.

"Mendoza, stop crying, will you? Remember: Zorro was a criminal." He addressed the sergeant that way, but he was really talking to himself.

"He didn't deserve to die like this. He was a good man, mi Alcalde. He saved my life, and yours, more than once," the sergeant said, sobbing.

"Shut up!"

De Soto left the house, not saying anything else, embarrassed because if he had stayed for a second longer he may have showed his emotions as well, and he could not allow himself to display that kind of weakness in public.

 _For Christ sake! I should be delighted I finally captured Zorro. What the hell is wrong with me?_

ZZZ

Coming out of the house, Mendoza saw the doctor outside. He signalled him to follow him a safe distance away from the others, and then he whispered:

"Doctor, I thought you helped Zorro somewhere close to the hacienda De la Vega last night. What happened? Why is Zorro dead so far away from it? I can't believe he is dead. My friend Zorro, dying on his own like this…" Mendoza looked genuinely sad, with tears spilling off his eyes one more time, and doctor Hernández felt sorry for him.

"Sergeant, I'm sorry but I couldn't save Zorro. Just remember this: I never saw him at the hacienda. I hope I can count with your discretion."

Mendoza was puzzled. He looked toward Santiago's house, then back at the doctor.

"What do you mean by that: " _you never saw him"_?"

"Sorry, Sergeant. I can't explain. Just forget you saw me outside the other night, please."

Mendoza's face was the image of concentration, of neurons thinking harder than ever.

"Do you mean… do you mean this isn't Zorro, and that you treated someone else at the hacienda?"

Doctor Hernández sighed. What a bad time the sergeant had chosen to be clever!

"Please, Sergeant. Forget about it. Don't say anything, to anyone, or the alcalde may believe that outrageous idea. I hope I can explain it to you one day. For the time being, accept this poor man was Zorro, if you still want to help your so called _friend_."

"Do you mean he is still alive?" Obvious hope shone in his eyes.

"Sergeant, please. Don't. Don't go there." Doctor Hernández didn't know how to get away from the conversation.

"He is!" Sergeant Mendoza smiled, optimistic. "Don't worry. I won't say anything. For once in my life, I will keep this to myself. I promise. It will be our secret. But I would like to say thank you to him personally one day, whoever he is, when he recovers."

"I hope that you can one day, Sergeant, but unfortunately he is not out of the woods yet. He may not make it."

"Take good care of him, then. Don't let him die like that poor Santiago."

"Mendoza!"

"Oh, no, the alcalde. What does he want now? Excuse me, Doctor. And don't worry, I'll keep quiet. No one will know anything from me."

 _I hope so, for Diego's sake,_ the doctor thought, watching the sergeant go back into the house. The record track of the sergeant's ability to keep a secret was nil, and he doubted Mendoza would keep his promise.

ZZZZZ

 **AN – That's a new level of maiming. I am even maiming the dead now. Sorry! Oops.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A.N – I am sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter, but real life has been a pain in the backside for the last two weeks, and it interfered with my idea to finish this story in less than a month. I hope it was worth the wait.**

 **Chapter 10**

Victoria waited at the tavern, preparing herself for the scene she was about to play at the plaza. She was restless, pacing up and down behind the counter, and her helpers wondered why she was acting like that, especially as it was so odd she had disappeared the previous evening and now she had come back for lunch time without any explanations on her whereabouts. However, Pilar and Alicia didn't have much time to wonder, as the soldiers arrived at the plaza with a flat cart carrying something under a white sheet. Shortly after their arrival, someone came into the tavern and shouted:

"It's Zorro! I think he is dead!"

That man rushed out again, and everybody at the tavern followed him with a mixture of dread and curiosity. Victoria fought her way out through the crowd and approached the cart. A human body lay flat there, covered with a white sheet. A hand had slipped out under the edge and hanged at the side, stiff, with a characteristic black shirt on display.

"Sergeant, tell me: is that really Zorro?" she asked with a shaky voice. Mendoza nodded slowly, sad and sympathetic.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

Victoria fell on her knees and cried desperately. To her own surprise, it wasn't too difficult for her to pretend. She only had to imagine Diego dead at the cave at the hacienda De la Vega, and a torrent of fresh tears spilled out of that bottomless well, the one located deep inside her eyes; the vast reservoir she didn't know she had until now.

Mendoza felt so moved by her desperation he wanted to comfort her, to let her know her lover, the _real_ one, was still alive, but he couldn't. Not there at the plaza, surrounded by the entire pueblo; and not ever, if he wanted to help Zorro and keep the promise he had made to the doctor.

"I'm so sorry, señorita Victoria. Please… don't cry."

He didn't know what else to say, if he couldn't say the truth. People at the plaza felt sorry for Victoria as well, and a shocked rumour of pity spread all over. Pilar and Alicia helped her up, and supported and hugged her gently while she sobbed, murmuring kind and soothing words.

"People of Los Angeles, I have an announcement to make," De Soto said, clearing his throat. "The criminal known as Zorro has finally been captured… dead, I'm afraid. He died from the gunshot he received yesterday at Diablo Canyon in unclear circumstances, presumably shot down by one of the bandits in Joaquín Salvador's gang."

"Who is he? Let me see his face, please!" Victoria begged.

De Soto grabbed the white sheet gently and pulled it with flair, revealing Zorro's inert body. The black mask was covering his pale, livid face. The alcalde waited a few seconds, for effect, while everybody could register the fact that man really looked like Zorro, indeed. Then, De Soto took the mask off quickly, dramatically.

"This is Zorro: Santiago Ramírez!"

Everybody at the plaza gasped in shock. Nobody was expecting that. How could that be? That shy farmer was Zorro? _Really?_

Victoria gasped as well. Even if she already knew who was lying under that sheet, seeing that ghostly pale face with those lifeless, open, dry eyes was still shocking for her. She howled and buried her face in Pilar's bosom, distressed by a new, unsettling realization.

Now she understood why Diego was so afraid of her rejection. She didn't think she could have loved _this_ Zorro if he had revealed himself as such. Santiago Ramírez wasn't as handsome and interesting as Diego, by far, and she didn't know him at all. It was a revelation. No matter how many times she had told herself she was in love with the real man under the mask, and not the legend, it wasn't true. Now she realized how foolish she had been falling in love with a mysterious man she didn't know anything about in real life; the real, boring life he lived when he wasn't hiding under a black mask and playing the daring, courting hero.

Under the dreadful circumstances she had been delighted to find out Diego was the one under the mask, because she also loved him. Admittedly, she had been in love with him since childhood, way before she had met Zorro. But, what would have happened if he wasn't the one? What if Zorro was really Santiago, or anybody else? She felt sick. Diego was really the clever one; that's why he was worried about her fleeting feelings for an unmasked hero that could not possibly fulfil her expectations, and why he was so reluctant to tell her his secret. She remembered his words at the tavern _: "_ _I don't think I could ever tell you who I really am, because I am afraid of your rejection. I prefer to have brief, stolen moments of solace with you as an outlaw, rather than losing you for ever if I remove the mask."_

Victoria cried inconsolable in Pilar's arms, displaying a superb performance of grief, only because it was real.

ZZZ

After Zorro's funeral that afternoon Diego was finally out of danger from being arrested, so in the evening they moved him upstairs to his room where he would be more comfortable. Don Alejandro told the servants Diego had returned home sick with fever, and they all believed the fib except María the house keeper, who was suspicious but didn't say anything. Victoria had closed the tavern, and nobody had questioned her actions when she had left the pueblo seeking help and solace at the De la Vega's.

Victoria, Don Alejandro and Felipe kept vigil at Diego's bedside all night and the next day. He had been unconscious most of the time, waking up briefly for a few seconds only to black out again, hardly recognizing the worried faces of his loved ones when they fussed over him. At least, with his perseverance and patience, Felipe had managed to get a significant amount of fluids and herbal infusion into him, so he would not be dehydrated, and the fever had come down.

The following day Diego woke up again in the early morning, blinking slowly, focusing on his surroundings this time. His eyes wandered around, recognizing his room. They stopped at Felipe's face, who welcomed him back to life with a smile of relief.

"Felipe, I…" Diego started, with a feeble voice, but Felipe placed a finger on his lips asking him to be quiet. He pointed at Victoria and Don Alejandro, who had fallen asleep on their chairs at both sides of Diego's bed in rather uncomfortable positions, exhausted by all the intense woe, grief, and shame, and nearly dehydrated by the amount of tears they had shed over the last two days. Felipe had cried too, but at least he hadn't felt that kind of sorrow for mistreating Diego for years, as they had done.

When he saw them, Diego panicked. He wasn't ready to face them as Zorro. Despite the intense pain he felt in his torso, he signed to Felipe: _"What happened? What did they say?"_

Felipe signed they were shocked by the revelation, as they were not expecting it at all. They didn't suspect he was Zorro and they were in a state, ashamed of themselves and their behaviour towards him, specially his father. Diego smiled weakly. _That will teach them not to judge a book by the cover_ , he thought.

He asked for a drink and Felipe served him a glass of bark infusion, helping him to hold it. Diego drank it all, and handed the glass back.

" _I don't think I can face them, Felipe. I need time to think,_ " he signed, with difficulty, wincing in pain every time he moved his arms. In the end, he resorted to articulate soundless words so Felipe could read his lips. " _To be honest, I didn't think I would make it this far. I thought I was dying."_

At that point Victoria stirred, and Diego looked at her, uneasy. Like the chicken he knew he was, at least with anything concerning the beautiful tavern owner, he closed his eyes and pretended to be unconscious, making a great effort to slow down his agitated respiratory rate.

Victoria opened her eyes and pulled herself up to sat up straight on the chair. She stretched her arms and back, and then she realized her neck was quite sore.

"Ouch. My neck. I think I will need some of that bark infusion, Felipe. Has he woken up at all while I was sleep?"

Felipe looked at Diego, hiding a smile, and then at Victoria, with a sad face, and he shook his head.

"Did he drink something then?"

Felipe looked at the empty glass in his hand, and shook his head again. He tapped his chest, and then pointed at his head, with a painful grim.

"You got a headache? Go to your room to sleep then, Felipe. I'll watch him. There is no need for the three of us to be here all the time."

Felipe didn't want to leave the room as he knew Diego was pretending to be asleep, and that was something too good to miss it, but Victoria insisted so much he had to go in the end. At least, now that it looked like Diego was going to make it, he could relax and rest a little easier.

When Felipe left, Victoria sat down back on her chair with her gaze fixed on Diego's face. He was breathing faster now, taking deeper breaths. She grabbed his hand to hold it lovingly, and caressed his dark hair, combing it back with her fingers. Was that a twitch what she saw in his eyebrow? No, she was imagining things. His face looked relaxed and serene just as before.

"Diego, you have to wake up, please. I have so many things to tell you, so many things to apologize for. I think I know now why you were so scared to tell me. When I saw Zorro dead on the cart I understood. I would not have been able to love _that_ Zorro." She thought she had seen a twitch again, at the corner of his mouth, and she was quite sure Diego's hand had pressed on hers for a moment, reacting to her words. "Diego, can you hear me? Wake up, please. Wake up!"

But Diego didn't wake up. Instead, his father did, alarmed by her urgency.

"What? What's happening? What's wrong? Is he all right?" he asked, sitting up, feeling even worse than Victoria due to the uncomfortable position he had fallen asleep on that chair. "Has he woken up?"

"I'm sorry, Don Alejandro. I didn't mean to disturb you. He's all right, I think, but he hasn't woken up yet."

"He should wake up soon. It's been three days already since he was injured. Doctor Hernández said his chest was clearing. He is breathing better, and the fever has come down. But he needs to be awake to be able to eat and drink to regain his strength."

Don Alejandro stretched his back, in the same manner Victoria had done, and complained about his neck and the wound in his shoulder.

"This chair is a killer!"

"Why don't you go to your room to rest properly, Don Alejandro? I'll stay here with him. I just sent Felipe to his room too; the poor boy had a headache. There is no need for the three of us to be here all the time."

"I can't rest until I know he is going to make it, Victoria. There are so many things I need to tell him…"

 _Please, don't start again with the crying. I can't take it anymore,_ Victoria thought.

"He has to wake up so I can apologize to him and take this load out of my chest."

Diego could hardly control himself and keep pretending he was unconscious. He hated hearing his father and Victoria so distressed and worried about him, but at the same time, he wasn't prepared to face them. He needed more time to think on a good approach to apologize for his actions and for lying to them all those years. Besides, what was all that about a dead Zorro on a cart?

"Yes, me too," Victoria agreed. "How could we have been so blind and callous? The amount of times we made fun of him because he wasn't as brave as Zorro… It's so embarrassing to think about it. How could he maintain a straight face back then? I know I would not have been able to do it."

"Neither would I. That reminds me I should be angry about the way he lied to us for so long. I should, but I can't now. I just want him to wake up, to be all right. He can't die. He has a life to look forward now that we've got rid of Zorro."

"Yes. About that… I'm worried he may be angry we killed him."

 _You killed him? Who? What did you do?_ Diego thought, unsettled. He could not believe the way they talked about killing someone so carelessly.

"At least I kept the sword for him, and Toronado. It's for the best. Otherwise, we would be still down there at the cave, fearing the alcalde would find out." Don Alejandro stood up and headed for the door. "I'll get some breakfast. Would you like something?"

"Yes, please. A cup of coffee would be nice."

"With _magdalenas_?"

"That would be great, thank you."

After he left, Victoria kept looking at Diego. Was that a hint of a smile? Was she imagining the corner of his mouth curving up a little? No, that was wishful thinking. She looked around, realizing she was alone with Diego for the first time since they were out of the cave. She could not resist the urge to stand up to plant a delicate kiss on his lips. Amazingly, as a princess on a fairy tale would do, he came back to life and responded to the kiss, embracing her. She was so surprised she couldn't move, shocked. When he let go of her she jumped back, covering a gasp with her hand on her mouth.

"I see you don't mind too much I am Zorro, _querida_."

"You are awake!"

"Yes. And I want magdalenas too," he said with a cheeky smile.

"Are you all right? Are you really awake, or I am dreaming?" she said leaning on, fussing over him, caressing his face. She started crying again, with her emotions overflowing.

"Please, don't cry, Victoria. I'm all right. I'm here."

"I thought you were going to die!" she sobbed. He reached for her, and she collapsed leaning on his shoulder. He winced in pain, but he thought any amount of discomfort was worth it. He embraced her again, trying to comfort her convulsing body by stroking her back gently.

"Ssshhh. I'm not dying. I'm here for you. Calm down, please."

They stayed like that for a while, content in each other's arms, until Don Alejandro came back into the room with the breakfast tray.

"Diego! You are awake!" Don Alejandro left the tray he was carrying on a side table, with his hands shaking so much with the emotion one of the magdalenas fell off the side and rolled a few meters over the floor. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm all right, Father." He let go of Victoria and extended his hand toward his father, who grabbed it quickly, anxiously. Victoria lifted her head, crying and laughing at the same time, nearly hysterical.

" _Gracias a Dios!_ I thought I was going to lose you, Son."

"What about you? Are you all right?"

"You saved my life, Diego. You got on the way of that bullet meant for me."

"To be honest, that was a mistake. A miscalculation. I only wanted to push you out of the way." He laughed, trying to play down the importance of his heroic action, and they laughed with him. "I didn't plan to be shot down. It wasn't my intention to lie here at your mercy now. Please, be gentle with me." He was worried about their reactions once the joy to see him awake had settled, and he needed a distraction. "Can I have a magdalena, please? I'm starving. Preferably, one that has not been rolling on the floor, thanks."

ZZZ

Don Alejandro watched his son munching contentedly on his cupcake, amazed he could look so well all of a sudden. They had propped him up on the pillows, and he looked much better, breathing easier, with some colour returning to his pale cheeks.

They had been discussing some issues already, like the dramatic disappearance of the legend of Zorro, and Diego seemed quite happy about it too.

"What did you mean with that _"be gentle with me"_? What do you think we are going to do to you?"

"Father, you have to admit that, if I wasn't dying, you would have hit the roof at finding out I have been lying to you for so long. And the same goes for you, Victoria. Look, I have been trapped in this Zorro loop for a long time, treading water in the middle of the pond without swimming to the sore, not knowing how to tell you because I wanted to keep you both safe at the same time. That way, with my inertia, I made things worse as the time went by. I'm sorry. This should not have happened." His blue eyes looked so genuinely troubled and tortured his father had to shed any residual anger he may still harbour for the deception, the same as Victoria.

"Don't worry, Diego. You are right: I could have been angry, but I'm not. Being so close to lose you has been an eye opener. I am so proud of you, Son. I don't feel anger, what I feel is regret and embarrassment because I doubted you and let myself be fooled so easily by the circumstances. I should have questioned why you had changed so much when you returned from Spain. It was too wide a swing to be true; I realize of that now. And I should have never, ever, scolded you the way I did for your apparent lack of courage. I am the one who has to apologize, not you. Please, forgive me."

"I feel exactly the same way, Diego," Victoria said. "I should have known. It is not your fault. You did what you had to do. It was our fault we couldn't see through the smoke screen you had created so efficiently. It seems obvious to me now Zorro could not be anybody else but you. But I couldn't see it before. I am so sorry and embarrassed for that, and for the way I treated you. Will you forgive me?"

"I have nothing to forgive, dear. If anything, you should forgive me for the years we lost."

There was a moment of silence, when the understanding settled, and all anxieties and grief were released. Then, Diego said in a light tone:

"Look, Father, just promise me this: you won't play Don Quixote ever again. I can't keep up with you."

"I won't, Diego, don't worry. No more adventures from now on. I'll leave that to you," the old don said, smiling, tapping Diego's arm.

"No, I don't want to, either. And now that you killed Zorro off, there will be no need for more stunts. Time to settle, and to give you the grandchildren you always wanted." He extended his hand to Victoria, who grabbed it lovingly, smiling back at him.

"That would be nice, Son. That would be very nice, indeed. Another magdalena?"

ZZZZZ

 **Epilogue**

"Señorita Victoria… I mean, _señora_ de la Vega… You look so beautiful today. Congratulations!" Mendoza said at her wedding four months later. He was delighted to see Don Diego and Victoria married, especially after the rough time she had when Zorro died, and the hard time Diego had as well when he returned home, when everybody branded him a coward. The couple were sailing to Spain on a long honeymoon trip the next day, and he didn't want to miss the chance to say goodbye.

"I hope you enjoy your honeymoon in Spain. I'll miss you at the tavern. Your cooking is so delicious it won't be the same without you."

"Thank you, Sergeant. For many things," she said, mysteriously.

"For what?" he said, puzzled. _What have I done now?_

She waved to her husband, who approached them with a broad smile on his face.

"For everything. Especially for your discretion." She planted a kiss on Mendoza's cheek, and whispered to his ear: _"I married my hero today."_

"What? What do you mean? Do you mean… _him_?"

She nodded, laughing. "He is _the one_ you have been wondering about for the last four months. He made it."

" _Him_? Madre de Dios!"

"What's wrong Sergeant Mendoza? It looks like you have seen a ghost," Diego said when he joined them.

"I have! You. You are dead! I mean, the other you. The other one," he bubbled.

"You don't make any sense, Sergeant," Diego said while passing his arm around Mendoza's shoulders, walking him away from the others.

"Is it really you? Are you Zorro?" Mendoza asked when nobody else could hear them.

Diego stopped and let go of Mendoza's shoulders to face him.

"Zorro is dead," he said, smiling, raising an eyebrow. _"But I used to be him,"_ he whispered, winking. "Doctor Hernández told me what you did and how you helped him at the hacienda, risking your career and even your life to help me, and then you surprised us all by keeping the secret to yourself. I am eternally in debt with you. Thank you, Jaime."

Mendoza started crying when he called him using his first name.

"Don Diego, I… I…" He couldn't find the words.

"Call me Diego. You are my friend, aren't you, Jaime?" Mendoza nodded, smiling through his tears. This was the best day of his life.

"Thank you, Zorro. I mean, Diego. You saved my life many times. And, I never thought you were a coward. I'm so sorry I spread that rumour. Forgive me."

"Don't worry. I am going to Spain, and I'll return a new brave man. You'll see what I can do with a sword with a little bit of training." He winked again, and they both laughed.

"I'm looking forward to see that!"

They shook hands enthusiastically and then came back to the party. Mendoza had a smug smile on his face for the rest of the afternoon. He could keep a secret, indeed. Zorro was alive, and he was his friend.

ZZZZZZZZZ

Fin

 **A.N – happy with the "happy ending"? I was very tempted to go the other way, but hey, if I kill Diego, then I can't keep maiming him ;)**

 **I hope you enjoyed this story. Please review, and let me know what you think of it overall. Review even if your read this years after it was first posted, because I will appreciate your comments all the same, or even more. What's the worst that can happen? That I reply to you to say "thank you"? Don't be shy ;)**

 **Thanks.**


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